


The Bodyguard

by ArabellaFaith



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11575869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/pseuds/ArabellaFaith
Summary: Yuri is a high class escort that specializes in fetish. If you can dream it, he'll make it happen - for a price.  But putting himself at the mercy of his clients has ended badly before, and he hires bodyguard Otabek Altin to step in when things get out of hand.  It's supposed to be an easy job.  It's supposed to be just work.  Neither of those things stay true for long...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work depicts extremely graphic fetish sex, as well as several times where scenes go beyond what one participant is willing to do. Please don't read if either of those are triggers for you.

_ How much extra for chauffeur services as well _ ?

 

That was all the email said.  Otabek had thought it was a joke, at first.  Or maybe a mistake.  But the email had sat in his inbox, waiting patiently for a reply, and finally he hadn’t been able to resist answering it.

 

The original email hadn’t been a mistake or a joke, and now he was standing outside the door of a stylish looking loft trying to force himself to knock.  Courage was something he’d never been in short supply of, and if the man on the other side of the door had been a six foot tall mafia boss, Otabek would have knocked confidently.  Instead, his client was a high class specialty escort.  Men paid to fuck him in unspeakable ways.  Otabek had perused the website that offered his services and cringed at the depraved acts that could be bought.  It wasn’t that he was a prude - quite the opposite, in fact - but there were certain lines that he didn’t think should be crossed, especially between strangers.

 

Still, a job was a job, and at this point Otabek couldn’t be picky about his clients.  If he didn’t want to retire like all his old colleagues had suggested, then he needed to make due where his services were solicited. And Yuri Plisetsky had hired him for a three month trial period, pending a successful face to face meeting.  A meeting he would be late for if he didn’t just knock on the damn door.  

 

Forcing himself to move despite his unease, Otabek raised his fist.  Just when he would have hit the wood, the door opened.

 

“I’m surprised you found the balls to knock, finally,” a lightly accented voice purred up at him.  Otabek schooled his features into the blank mask before shock had a chance to register on his face.  He felt like he’d been hit over the head with something very hard, then had a bucket of icy water dumped on him.

 

For one cowardly moment, he sincerely hoped that this was Yuri’s valet, or cook, or younger brother - anything but the man himself.  The shockingly graphic pictures on the website had in no way prepared Otabek for the real life presence of Yuri.  He was small, almost comically small compared to Otabek’s overly large frame, and so delicately wrought that he could have been made of porcelain.  Huge green eyes framed in impossibly long, dark blond lashes were set in a face that would have been more at home in the Sistine Chapel than a loft at the edge of town.

 

In contrast to the pictures Otabek had seen, where Yuri was in various titillating states of undress, he was covered from neck to toe, his clothes conservative and tailored to his stature.  His hair, which was a vibrant shade of gold, was pulled back in a severe french braid.  It should have made his features harsher, but instead seemed to highlight the delicacy of them.  His hand, which was still resting on the edge of the door, was long and slim.  One look told Otabek that he would have been able to crush that hand with hardly more effort than squeezing the juice from an orange.

 

All of these things hit him at once, and while his mind was still struggling to cope, Yuri’s voice had struck him right in the gut.  There was no way those words should have sounded that sensual.  The hint of laughing derision shouldn’t have been sexy, the slight lilt shouldn’t have evoked carnal thoughts, the slow rumble of each word should not have sent a curl of pleasure through Otabek’s stomach.

 

He’d expected overt.  Crass, even.  He’d expected sharp and hard and crude.  The creature before him seemed to be none of those things.  Perhaps Otabke had been-

 

“Are you going to come in, or are you going to fuck me with your eyes right here in the hall?”

 

Ah, there it was.  Otabek snapped out of his reverie and extended his hand.  “Otabek Altin,” he introduced himself, ignoring the jab.  Yuri looked at his hand for a moment as if debating, then slipped his much smaller one into it.

 

“Yuri Plisetsky.  But I’m sure you’ve gathered that by now.”  He quickly pulled his hand away, leaving Otabek the fleeting impression of softness and frailty, then stepped back to allow Otabek past him.  

 

The inside of the loft seemed to reflect its owner.  It was beautiful, ethereal, and everything in it seemed dangerously breakable.  Otabek suddenly felt like a bull in a china shop.  “Please, sit.”  Yuri gestured to the white leather couch held up by narrow silver legs.  Otabek looked at it dubiously.  “I can guarantee that it won’t shatter beneath you,” Yuri assured him, clearly reading his thoughts.  “It’s built of sterner stuff than that, even if you look to weigh as much as two or three grown men ought.”

 

“Maybe not as much as three  _ grown _ men, but as much as three of you, at least,” Otabek murmured in reply.  He groaned internally as soon as he said it.  It was a foolish thing to do.  He didn’t even have the job and he was already insulting his client.  He sat stiffly, half expecting Yuri to thrown him out for the comment.

 

“I suppose our sizes serve us well in our respective professions,” he said far more amiably than Otabek had any right to expect.  Instead of opening his mouth again and risking sticking his foot further into it, Otabek just nodded in response.  “Now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we talk business?”

 

Otabek inclined his head again, noticing that there was no jewelry on Yuri at all except two golden cuffs in the cartilage of his ears.  They somehow made him seem elfin.

 

“As we discussed over email, I think a three month trial period would be best to start with, and discussion of a longer-term arrangement can be made after that.  My guest room would be at your disposal, and the bathroom beside it would be exclusively yours.  After you’ve secured the loft to your liking, we can set aside Monday and Tuesday as your days off.  The rest of the week, you’re to be available to me at any hours.  Of course, because of the nature of my profession, your discretion is required.  You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement for the protection of my clients’ identities.  Most of the driving I’ll be having you do will be mundane errands, but occasionally it will be to client’s homes.  In those cases you will need to do  _ discreet _ checks of the premises upon arrival, and be available in case of any… situations that require your skills.”

 

Otabek wasn’t surprised by the terms.  It was mostly what they’d already discussed - though hearing it from the unquestionably gorgeous man in front of him did make it seem somehow surreal.  Still, there were other questions he wanted answered.  “Mr Plisetsky, you have yet to tell me what you think you’ll need protection  _ from _ .  I can see that over-amorous admirers might be a concern in your… line of work, but a dog would be deterrent enough for that.  Why are you hiring a fully trained bodyguard?”

 

“The fact that you’ve come here at all after seeing my website tells me that you’re not too squeamish, at least,” Yuri said with a sigh.  “There are times where I require… assistance, after a certain client.  And despite my rigorous checks, there are always a few whose tastes are beyond even what I am willing to cater to.  I am not as helpless as I appear, but there have been times where I’ve been unable to put an end to the scene.”

 

“You’ve been raped by clients?”  Otabek didn’t even try to hide the horror from his voice.  Yuri huffed and rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t be dramatic.  They have my consent the moment they pay me.  What I need is someone to step in when things have gone beyond my limits and I am incapacitated.  And I need someone who can drive me around because I’m tired of paying for taxis.”

 

“Putting aside the rest of that for a moment, why do you need a driver to begin with?  Why not just drive yourself?”

 

“I can’t drive.”

 

“You can’t… you mean you had your license taken away?”

 

“No, I mean I don’t know how.  And before you make a comment about why I haven’t taken the time to learn, I should remind you that part of your salary is based on the fact that I can’t drive myself around.  I’d think the extra pay would be worth holding back whatever quip I can see you coming up with.”

 

Otabek held out his hands as if in surrender.  It was insane to him that someone would willingly deprive themselves of driving.  It was one of his specialties, and a favorite hobby.  There was nothing like the feel of the wind tugging at you as you sped a motorcycle down a long stretch of highway, or the thrill that sparked your blood taking a sharp turn in a sleek sports car.  Still, he wasn’t going to complain about the extra cash.  “Now then, what other questions do you have before you start?”  Yuri waited, hands folded in his lap.  He expected sex questions, perhaps even a solicitation.

 

“Why me?”

 

Now  _ that _ Yuri hadn’t expected. It was an easy enough question to answer, though.  “There weren’t many other options.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Actually, it is.  Apparently most of your _ colleagues _ consider it beneath them the protect a fetish whore.”

 

Otabek cringed internally at the crude name, but didn’t let it show on his face.  “Some, but not all.”

 

“All the ones suitable for my needs.  Capability and discretion, yes, but also a certain… code.  I will be in extremely delicate positions for much of the time I’ll need you.  A bodyguard with less scruples might be inclined to take advantage.  But your reputation precedes you in that area.”

 

“And the fact that I can’t use a gun doesn’t bother you?”

 

Yuri shrugged.  “I can’t have you shooting my clients, even the more unsavory ones.  There’s no need for it, not to mention it would be bad for business.  You’re still intimidating as hell and I have it on good authority that you can still fight.  That’s all I require.”  There was a pause, and Yuri expected Otabek to fill it, but he only continued to study him with steady brown eyes.  “And, because of the stigma of your injury, you came far cheaper than your services otherwise might have cost me.”

 

“Seems like you could afford the best,” Otabek ventured, looking around at the richly furnished loft.

 

“Only a fool thinks they can do this job forever.  I might keep it longer than most, because of my stature, but eventually I  _ will _ age, and no one wants an aging whore.  At least, not the kind of clientele that I live by.  So saving money now is what will ensure my future.”

 

“In that case, I’m surprised you’re willing to buy full time services.”

 

“There’s no sense in saving up for the future if I’m not alive for it.”

 

“Are these scenes really that dangerous?”  Otabek tensed a little, thinking back to the pictures on the website, the ropes and clamps and whips…

 

“Usually, no.  But I’d rather not take that chance.”  Something crossed Yuri’s face too fast for Otabek to read it, then he shook his head a little.  “The job’s yours, if you’re still willing to take it now that you know exactly what it entails.”

 

Otabek considered for only a moment.  He’d made his decision before he’d even come to the loft.  There wasn’t much work for a bodyguard who couldn’t shoot, even one with a reputation like Otabek’s.  If he didn’t want to leave the profession entirely, he needed to take jobs where he could.  Those were the reasons he told himself.  The logical ones, the rational ones.  He ignored the flare of protectiveness that had risen in his chest at the thought of the delicate man before him being mistreated.  Whatever Yuri claimed about his consent being forfeit at the exchange of money, no still meant no, and purposely forcing your partner beyond their limits was assault.  Otabek didn’t know Yuri, didn’t know his situation or his past, didn’t owe him a single bit of allegiance, and yet Otabek knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“I can start today.”

 

“Good.  That’s… good, then.”  For a moment, genuine relief seemed to wash over Yuri, then the calculating look was back in his eye.  “One more thing.”  He rose and crossed the space between them, stepping lightly and moving in such a way that Otabek’s eyes were instantly drawn to the sway of his hips.  Otabek swallowed and forced his eyes back upwards.  Yuri stopped in front of him, planted one hand in the center of his chest, and slowly lowered himself down until he was straddling Otabek’s lap.  “I can accommodate almost any tastes.  I can be whatever you want.”  His voice was low and seductive, wrapping around Otabek like silk.  “You could have me twice a week, any way you want me, for a one quarter salary drop.”  By the time he’d finished speaking, his lips were so close to Otabek’s ear that the tip of his tongue brushed infinitesimally against the shell of it.  Otabek struggled to breathe.  His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and his mind far too sluggish to form a coherent thought.  It had been a long time since he’d had someone in his bed, and never one as breathtakingly beautiful as Yuri.

 

When his silence stretched, Yuri leaned back so that he could see Otabek’s face.  “That’s quite a deal considering my hourly rates.”

 

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Otabek thought that if his dick had hands, it would have strangled him.  Yuri cocked his head to the side, still planted in Otabek’s lap and politely ignoring the semi-hard length beneath him.

 

“Do you have some rule about not being involved with your clients?”

 

“No, I have a rule about not paying for sex.”

 

At his bluntness, Yuri did finally rise.  His eyes were narrowed.  “Oh?  Is that beneath you?  Or are you going to pretend that you have to  _ care _ about anyone you stick your dick in?”

 

“Neither.  I just want my partners to be with me because they want to.  Not because I’m paying them and not because they feel obligated.”

 

There was a long, tense moment, and Otabek thought Yuri was going to throw him out.  He thought he’d perhaps ruined the best (not to mention the only) full-time job offer he’d had in months, all for his sensibilities - which he’d wanted to chuck out the window as soon as Yuri had sat in his lap anyway.  But Yuri didn’t throw him out.  He smiled a little, one corner of his mouth hitching up just a fraction.  “You’re kind of a fucking pride, aren't you?"  Then he laughed and turned away.  “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”


	2. Chapter 2

The loft was very nice throughout, but not nearly as big as Otabek had at first thought.  Aside from the living room and the kitchen that opened out to it, there was a practically furnished spare bedroom and bathroom, and Yuri’s room.  A king size bed dominated the master suite, but perhaps contrary to what Otabek expected, the room appeared very innocent.  It had an ensuite bath which was much more luxurious than the guest one, and a single door that opened off the other side of it.  Yuri simply said it was a closet and left it at that.

 

The whole tour took less than ten minutes.  After that, Otabek left to get his bags and equipment, then began his basic sweep of the space when he returned.  There was nothing out of the ordinary, though he did notice from the blueprint he’d sketched based on the architecture of the building that Yuri’s closet was far larger than any one person’s had a right to be.  Then again, the room hadn't showed signs of any sex paraphernalia, so he doubted  _ clothes _ were the main contents.

 

When he finished his sweep and had his few belongings unpacked, Yuri was in the living room typing on his laptop.  Be barely looked up when Otabek sat down.

 

“I have a new client arriving tonight.  Normally you won’t need to be out here when clients come if you don't want to be, but I’d like for you to be visible when he first gets here.”

 

“Do you expect trouble?”  

 

“No, but there’s always an element of uncertainty with new clients, no matter how careful my screening process is.  I’ll- I’d like for him to know you’re here.”

 

Otabek nodded, wondering what Yuri had been about to say before he cut himself off.  ‘I’ll feel safer?’  Or ‘I’ll be more comfortable?’  Was the man really so proud that he couldn’t even voice that out loud?  “Are all your clients men?”

 

“Most, not all.  Usually women looking to hire an escort want someone built more like you than me.  Occasionally I see mommy complexes, or over-nurturers with no outlet, but more often than not it’s men who can’t be open about their tastes or can’t otherwise find a partner to fit their needs.”

 

“And this one?”

 

“From what I’ve seen, he’s handsome enough to attract his own partners.”  Yuri didn’t explain further, and Otabek didn’t ask.  He didn’t want to know what deviant fantasies the man had that were so outlandish that he could only fulfil them with an escort.

 

“We need some sort of system in place so that I can know if you need help.  I’m assuming-” he stopped, not sure how to delicately phrase his thought.

 

“That I’ll be too ‘tied up’ to use normal means of communication?” Yuri supplied helpfully to him, another crooked smile hitching his lips.  “Most of the time, you’re right.  The problem is that there really isn’t a good way to signal.  I wouldn’t always be able to say something, and I won’t always be near a solid surface to knock or anything like that.  I don’t suppose you have some spy-tech that would work?”

 

“I can have something custom done, but nothing pre-made is going to work for this.  It’ll be a few days at least until it could be finished.”

 

“I suppose…”  Yuri stopped, considering.  “Until then, I think the best solution is to have you watch.”

 

Otabek grimaced.  “You want me in the room?”

 

“No, that wouldn’t work at all.  I mean through a camera.  Come on.  I’ve got the equipment, but you’ll have to help me set it up.”

 

Wondering why an escort had equipment like that, but deciding he’d rather not know, Otabek followed into Yuri’s room.  From a tall, dark bureau along the wall, Yuri pulled a camera and wireless connectors.  He turned the camera on, adjusted a few settings on his phone, then paired them up.  “Lift me on top of this, will you?”  He pointed to the top of the bureau.  Otabek obligingly lifted him until Yuri was sitting atop it, fiddling with the angle of the camera.  “Get on the bed.”  Otabek’s head jerked up and he felt his cheeks color slightly.

 

“ _ What _ ?”

 

“I said get on the bed.  I want to check the picture clarity.”  Yuri rolled his eyes at Otabek’s reticence.  “It’s not going to bite you.  Just lay down on it and cross your fingers.  Literally, not figuratively.”

 

Reluctantly, Otabek stretched out on the bed and then crossed his fingers.  He was very aware of the fresh, laundry soap smell of the blanket, how soft the pillows were beneath his head, and what all sex acts had likely happened on the mattress despite how innocent it seemed.  “Perfect.  Now take your pants off and-”  Yuri stopped at the look of horror on Otabek’s face and cackled with laughter.  “I’m just fucking with you,” he assured, still snickering as Otabek scrambled off the bed.

 

“Very funny.”

 

“You’re going to need to loosen up if you’re going to live with a prostitute.  Think of how much what you watch later is going to make you blush if you can’t bear the thought of a little nudity.”

 

“You really want me to  _ watch _ ?  Isn’t that against some… code?  Privacy for your clients or something like that?” 

 

Yuri shrugged negligently.  “I’ll tell him you’re watching if it eases your conscience.  He’ll probably like it, actually.”  The wicked gleam came back to Yuri’s eyes.  “Especially if he thinks you’re jerking off while you watch.”

 

“I won’t-  I mean, that’s not-”

 

“Suit yourself.  It’ll be quite the show.  Now help me down.”  Otabek automatically lifted Yuri down from the cabinet, still shocked at the masturbation comment.  Yuri breezed past Otabek and went out to grab his laptop in the living room.  A few moments later, he’d paired the camera to the computer, and suddenly the feed popped up on the screen in full color.  “Watch my hands, if you can tear your eyes away from the good stuff.  My non-verbal signal with clients that it’s gone too far is to cross my fingers.  If you see that and he keeps going, you can show up in your shining armor and save the day.”

 

Otabek snorted.  “Will shining nylon do?  I left my armor in my other suitcase.”

 

“Bit of a let down, but I guess I’ll manage.”  He looked over Otabek with a somewhat dismissive smile and then sauntered past him to the bedroom to get ready.  

 

***

 

Two hours later, Yuri emerged from his room silently.  Otabek had just finished sending an email to his equipment supplier with the specs of the Panic Button he’d designed for Yuri.  When he looked up, his breath caught.  Yuri was wearing a… dress.  A dress that was somehow confusingly both sexy and innocent.  It was white with pale pink bows at the hem, drawing the edges of the skirt in daringly flirty gathers that flashed his thighs tantalizingly.  His legs were encased in white thigh high stockings and his hair was down, brushing his shoulders and shining in the light.  If he squinted, Otabek thought he could see a hint of makeup on Yuri’s face.  Something to highlight the almond tilt of his eyes and a gloss on his lips that made them seem impossibly fuller.

 

Yuri saw Otabek’s shocked perusal of him and smirked.  “Maybe, if I’d made my proposition earlier dressed like this, you would have said yes.”  His voice was lighter than before, breathy and sweet.  He glanced up at Otabek from beneath his lashes innocently.  Otabek continued to stare for a moment, admittedly aroused but uncomfortable with it.  He settled for shaking his head.

 

“Ah, well, your loss I guess.  My guest should be here any moment.  You shouldn’t need to speak, even to introduce yourself.  Just let him see you, then go back to your room and watch on the laptop.  You remember what you’re watching for, aside from a glimpse of my cock?”

 

Otabek scowled.  “Your fingers crossed.  If he doesn’t stop after that, I’ll come get you.”

 

“Good.”  Yuri nodded, then turned and got himself a glass of water from the kitchen.  As he sipped it, the strap of his dress fell, exposing the pale line of his bare shoulder.  Otabek swallowed and fought the urge to straighten it. He was about to see a hell of a lot more of his client.  He needed to get used to the idea.

 

There was a knock on the front door.  Yuri looked up at it, touched a finger to his lips to see that he hadn’t smudged his lip gloss, then put on a flirtatious smile and went to the door.

 

The man he let in was in his forties, perhaps very handsome once but somewhat past his prime.  His dark hair was thinning, his waistline thickening, and his eyes were flat.  Otabek immediately disliked him.  To be fair, he couldn’t be sure if that was his instincts, or the fact that this man had paid a male escort to dress up as a little girl and have sex with him.

 

The words they spoke were in low, murmuring voices that Otabek couldn’t quite make out, even from just across the room.  The man’s eyes drank in the sight of Yuri, barely flicking away when Yuri gestured to where Otabek was seated in the corner.  He did a double take, however, and then his fingers curled tightly around Yuri’s upper arm.  Otabek gripped the edges of the chair, holding himself back from leaping across the room to tear the man’s hand off.  He told himself that the violent reaction was unnaturally provoked.  Yuri’s outfit was designed to evoke a sense of innocence, of defencelessness, of fragility.  He wasn’t a child about to be dragged off and ravaged, but a grown man in a dress placating a client.

 

Yuri pulled the client’s hand from his arm and kissed the man’s fingers, whispering something to him and then giggling.  Otabek kept his face carefully neutral.  The couple ignored him after that, and moved to the bedroom.  As soon as the door was closed, Otabek rose and went to watch the proceedings from the laptop.

 

It seemed innocent enough, at first.  Yuri served the man a drink, then sank to his knees and took off the man’s shoes.  It was done slowly, provocatively, his hands lingering, then slipping up the leg of his trousers to caress his calf.  It was almost like a dance, watching Yuri bring the man to a state of total relaxation, petting and kissing him.

 

Otabek tried to zone it out.  It was highly doubtful that Yuri would need his safe signal in these early stages, and Otabek didn’t want to watch the seduction.  Instead, he focused on trying to get a grip on his errant reactions.  He’d agreed to do this job for three months.  He needed to stop thinking of Yuri as a victim and instead think of him as a businessman.  The bed was where he made his money.   It wasn’t as though Otabek had an inherent problem with prostitution.  He didn’t know anyone who’d chosen that life willingly, but he knew there were plenty who were safe and content with the career.  There was no reason to think that Yuri had a tragic past that had driven him to selling his body to survive.  And even if there was, Yuri wasn’t a child.  He was an adult making his own decisions.  The young, fragile appearance of him was a facade.  Otabek could tell already that Yuri was intelligent, calculating, and likely manipulative.  There was no need for Otabek to feel so intensely protective of him.

 

And yet, he did.  It was automatic, instinctive, and he was powerless against it.  Everything about Yuri Plisetsky brought his more primal urges to the fore, along with a drive to keep the man safe.  It was foolish.  Otabek lived in the real world, despite what his friends jokingly accused him of.  He knew that it wasn’t his job to turn his clients away from dangerous professions.  It was his job to keep them from harm, in whatever form it took.

 

Ironically, it was that very thing that he had to  _ prevent _ himself from doing when suddenly the client yanked Yuri down over his knee, shoved the frothy skirt up, and spanked his scantily clad ass.  There was no sound through the camera, but Otabek could hear the faint crack of it through both doors.  Yuri arched and cried out, squirming.  Otabek’s eyes were glued to his fingers, held behind his back by the client in an iron grip.  They were still uncrossed, even when the man slapped Yuri’s ass again.

 

It went on for several minutes, Yuri’s cries of pain muffled through the doors making Otabek flinch.  Eventually, the man shoved Yuri off his lap, wrapped the golden length of Yuri’s hair around his fist, and began to fuck his face.  Before Otabek even had a chance to swallow in sympathy for the abuse Yuri’s throat was taking, the client pulled out and came on Yuri’s face.  Yuri opened his mouth wide and stuck his tongue out as if hoping to catch every drop.  He looked nothing but satisfied as the man rubbed his cock on Yuri’s lips, then gathered the ejaculate that had landed on his cheeks and chin and fed it to him.

 

Otabek was both vaguely aroused and incredibly disgusted.  At least, he thought, the violent display of faux intimacy was over.

 

A moment later, Yuri was pushed onto the bed on his hands and knees.  Without ceremony or preparation, Yuri’s client climbed up behind him and began fucking him.  Otabek sincerely hoped that Yuri had stretched and lubed himself before the man had arrived.  Either way he was cringing at the sight.  The muffled cries from down the hall became louder and louder until Otabek could catch pieces of it clearly.

 

“Daddy!”  “good girl,” and “slut,” were the ones he heard most often.  The rest seemed to be unintelligible begging from Yuri, and grunting from the client.  Since the man had already come once, he seemed to go on for an incredibly long time, fucking Yuri brutally into the mattress with no apparent thought of his comfort or pleasure.  Jarringly, Otabek had a short moment of envy for the man’s stamina before he realized that it had to be drug induced.  After all, it would be a waste not to get his full money’s worth.  The idea left a bad taste in Otabek’s mouth.

 

Through the whole time, Yuri’s fingers remained uncrossed.  Otabek stayed where he was, watching the rough fucking.  He wondered if he’d made a mistake taking this job.  Already, Yuri was under his skin, and he didn’t think he was cut out to witness these kinds of encounters.  Not like this.

 

After what seemed like an age, the man finally gave one last groan and came.  He pulled out abruptly, collapsed on the bed, then snapped his fingers at Yuri and pointed down to his half-limp cock.  Obediently, Yuri wrapped his lips around it and began to suck.   _ That can’t be sanitary, _ Otabek thought with a scowl.  Eventually, Yuri stopped and rested his head against his client’s thigh, allowing the man to run his hands lovingly through his long blonde hair.

 

There were a few more words exchanged after the artificially tender moment, then the client got up, dressed, and left the loft.  Otabek wondered if he was supposed to go check on Yuri or leave him be since he hadn’t signaled.  As if in answer, Yuri looked directly at the camera, made a jerking off gesture, flipped the bird, then went into his bathroom and closed the door behind him.

 

An hour later Yuri walked into the living room with damp hair and skin pink from scrubbing.  Otabek had expected a hitch in his step or some other sign of the abuse he’d taken, but there was none.

 

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked as he poured himself a glass of water.  The sleeve of his pajama top rode up as he took a sip, and he pulled it down immediately as if worried about his modesty - an idea that wouldn’t have seemed so totally asinine if Otabek hadn’t just seen him being fucked by a stranger.

 

“It was… enlightening.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“At least now I really do know what I’ve gotten myself into.”  He tried to make the words sound as casual as possible.  Yuri nearly choked on his next sip as he burst out laughing.

 

“Oh, baby, you haven’t seen  _ anything _ .  That was practically child’s play.”

 

“I sincerely hope not,” Otabek replied with a now familiar scowl.  Yuri grimaced and rolled his eyes.

 

“Turn of phrase,” he clarified.  “What I’m saying is that if  _ that _ made you uncomfortable, then you’re in for a rough ride.”

 

“It seemed to me that you were the one having the rough ride.”

 

Yuri raised one pale brow in grudging respect and surprise.  “My, my, but you are quick with your tongue tonight.  I guess we’re a pair.”  He crossed to the living room and sat gracefully onto the chair across from Otabek.  “What did you think of my beau?”

 

Otabek opened his mouth to reply honestly and then closed it again.  Already he’d let his tongue loose unchecked.  Yes, Yuri seemed to have found it amusing, but that didn’t mean that he would take kindly to having his clients insulted.  Before anything else, Otabek needed to remember that Yuri was his employer.  He settled for a shrug.  Yuri studied him and then made a forwarding motion.  “Come on, give me your honest thoughts.  I’m not going to be offended on behalf of a customer.”

 

“I think-”  What was the most civil way to word what he wanted to say?  “I think that a man who needs his male partner to dress up as a little girl in order to feel superior, and then acts with no thought to their comfort or pleasure, isn’t much of a man at all.”

 

“I can’t say I disagree with you on the first part, but surely even you realize that part of  _ paying _ for sex is the appeal of not having to satisfy your partner?”

 

Otabek said nothing, and Yuri shook his head. “I’m not fucking them to get off.  I’m fucking them for money.  It’s actually far easier to service a client who doesn’t require my participation in that respect than one who does.  Trust me, Taylor was a kitten compared to some of my regulars.”

 

“Does that mean you’ll be seeing him again?”

 

“Maybe.  He seemed plenty satisfied, and I certainly have no objections, but sometimes these things are just one offs.  We’ll have to wait and see.”  He finished off his water and stood.  “In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep.  I’ve got errands to run tomorrow and another client coming tomorrow night.”

 

“Sleep well,” Otabek called after Yuri’s retreating figure.  Yuri waved halfheartedly without turning, then vanished inside his room.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story earns its rating and then some in this chapter, so be warned!

Otabek would have taken Yuri to the sleaziest sex shop in the city without question if he’d been asked, but Yuri’s errands the next day were as inane as he’d promised.  They got coffee, then went to three different markets for produce.  Otabek spent several minutes watching Yuri choose tomatoes and wondering how on earth they could be used sexually before reminding himself that Yuri was still just as human as anyone else.  Not everything he did was based around sex.  

 

It was strange almost, after what he’d seen the night before - not to mention how  _ casually _ Yuri had reacted to it - to now see this very ordinary side of him.  He looked, in his overly modest clothes and simple hair style, like a religious teenager.  The idea almost made Otabek smile.  He didn’t know Yuri’s thoughts on god, but he doubted Yuri had respect for any organized religion.

 

They stopped for lunch at a cafe before continuing on.  Otabek was again surprised that Yuri directed him to a bulk store, but he supposed someone so practical about money would want to buy lube cheaper by the gallon.  They ended the afternoon at a park.  Yuri had seated himself in the grass with his face tipped to the sun.  Despite the heat, he didn’t roll up his sleeves or open the collar of his shirt.  Otabek wondered if there was some deeper meaning behind that.  Maybe Yuri showed so much of himself to his clients that he couldn’t bear the rest of the world to see any more than absolutely necessary.  Then again, that would mean there was some vulnerability in him, and Otabek was beginning to wonder if Yuri wasn’t totally impervious.

 

Soft, cheery music drifted to them and Otabek saw a snow cone stand set up across the park.  He was a little thirsty himself, so he could only imagine how overheated Yuri must have been in his high collar and long sleeves.

 

“I’m going to go get a snow cone.  Would you like one, Mr Plisetsky?”

 

Yuri jumped a little, as if he’d forgotten Otabek was there.  Or maybe he’d been startled by the offer.  He squinted at Otabek, either from the brightness of the sun or unsure of the sincerity of his words.  “Alright,” he finally agreed.  Otabek nodded and stood.

 

“What flavor?  I think they have-” he shaded his eyes from the sun to see the sign on the cart better, “red, green, blue, yellow, and orange.”

 

“Anything but yellow.”

 

Otabek nodded again, already looking away, then did a double take.  There was an ever so slight flush to Yuri’s cheeks.  It wasn’t as though picking snow cone flavor was anything to be embarrassed about… Perhaps the heat was getting to him even more than Otabek had thought.  He walked quickly to the stand and ordered, then returned with the cool treats just as rapidly.  Yuri took his without comment - Otabek had gotten him a red one, as it was his personal favorite - and began to eat it.  The flush had already left his cheeks, and by the time the ice was gone, both of them seemed far more comfortable.

 

They returned to the loft in late afternoon and spent the next hour putting away the day’s purchases.  Otabek had picked up several items for himself and added them alongside Yuri’s things.  The scene was almost domestic, for all that they’d only known each other two days.

 

Yuri sat to work on his laptop for a while, refusing dinner when Otabek offered, then excusing himself to his room to prepare for his next client’s arrival.  By the time he emerged two hours later, he was once again drastically different than the man he’d been earlier.  His hair was slicked back from his face and tied into a bun at the nape of his neck.  There were leather cuffs at his wrists and a thick black collar around his neck.  He was wearing only a pair of snug black shorts that seemed like they would shred at the slightest provocation.  It was the first time Otabek had seen Yuri’s bare chest in person, and he noticed two very small gold barbells through his nipples.

 

Otabek had never thought much about nipple piercings, but the tiny glints of gold at Yuri’s were incredibly erotic.

 

“You don’t need to be out here for Alex’s arrival.”  Yuri’s voice had a strange lilt to it, as if wavering between strong and soft.

 

Otabek nodded, forcing himself away from any sexual thoughts of his boss.  He waited a beat, expecting Yuri to sit, but when he remained standing, Otabek rose and went to his bedroom to double check that the laptop was set up properly.  Everything seemed in order; the room looked exactly the same except a large rectangle beside the bed that shone strangely - a sheet on the floor? - and an array of ominous looking instruments set out on the dresser.

 

Ten minutes later Otabek heard a low murmur of voices from the living room.  There was a crack, and then Yuri’s client - Alex - entered the bedroom.  Yuri followed him on his knees, led by the leash that Alex held.  There was a bright red handprint on the side of Yuri’s face, and for a moment Otabek had to grip the armrests of the chair to keep from storming in and returning the favor to the client.

 

Yuri kept his eyes down, and followed whatever orders Alex gave him, though Otabek couldn’t hear what they were.  He knelt on the hardwood floor for long enough that Otabek’s knees ached in sympathy.  Alex picked up a long strap with a silver circle in the middle and affixed it around Yuri’s head, the ring acting like a bit and forcing Yuri’s mouth open.  Alex studied his handiwork, paused a moment, then slapped Yuri’s other cheek.  Otabek heard the crack of it through two closed doors and clenched his fists hard enough that he felt the blunt edges of his nails digging crescent furrows into his palms.

 

The rest of the scene was no easier to watch.  Alex made use of the gag in Yuri’s mouth by slamming his cock through it and down Yuri’s throat until his eyes watered and his nose ran.  Yuri never struggled.  His fingers never crossed.  Alex led him around the room like a dog, whipped his back with a flogger until it was scarlet, and then shackled him on the bed.  The angle of it looked excruciating.  Yuri was on his knees, bent forward with his hands cuffed together behind his back, and both of them held up to what looked like an inhumanly possible angle, attached to a chain dangling from the ceiling.  

 

Alex ripped away the flimsy looking shorts in a single yank, exposing Yuri fully to him.  There was a small dark circle nestled between Yuri’s cheeks, and Alex grasped it, pushing it forward hard enough for Yuri to rock with the force of it before he yanked it out.  The plug, which Otabek realized Yuri must have put in before Alex arrived, was discarded on the floor.  Alex shoved several fingers into Yuri and Otabek heard a muffled groan.  He kept his eyes trained fiercely on Yuri’s fingers.  They were limp, not clenching the chain binding them, and not crossed. 

 

A moment later, Alex removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock, thrusting with the same brutal force.  Yuri was jerked forward, the muscles in his arms and back straining helplessly.  Another thrust sent him forward again, and this time Alex’s hands rose up to curl around Yuri’s throat over the collar.  He was yanked back by it, then held into place as Alex continued thrusting.  After a minute, Yuri’s body began to tremble.  After another, he was outright struggling, arching and writhing, trying to get away from Alex’s choking hands.  Otabek watched Yuri’s fingers as if his life depended on their every twitch - and perhaps  _ Yuri’s _ life did - and blood was roaring in his ears.  His chest billowed as he fought his every instinct to rush in and tear the man to fucking pieces.

 

Yuri’s struggles began to slow.  Otabek felt another surge of adrenaline hit him.  He didn’t care if Yuri hadn’t given the signal.  This was going to stop, right fucking now.  Just as he jumped to his feet, Alex released Yuri’s neck.  Otabek could see him taking in great gulps of air.  He could hear faint coughing and gagging.  Alex pulled out, dripping ejaculate down the backs of Yuri’s thighs, and released him from the chain.  Hands still behind his back, Yuri dropped bonelessly to the bed face first.  Sluggishly, he turned his head to the side and continued taking deep breaths.

 

They stayed like that for a beat, then Alex rose from the bed.  He dragged Yuri off of it by the collar, stumbling and shaking, then pushed him to his knees on the sheet on the floor.  Yuri sank back on his heels as Alex raised his face with a deceptively gentle knuckle under his chin.  Yuri’s face was blotchy and tear stained, but his eyes were now dry.  Maybe it was a trick of the light or the angle of the camera, but they looked… empty.  It sent a chill up Otabek’s back.

 

Alex stroked Yuri’s face softly, whispered something in his ear, then stepped back and began urinating on his face.  Otabek jolted in his chair, shocked in spite of everything he’d seen already.  Yuri struggled to keep his eyes open despite the splashing as Alex continued pissing on him with a malicious grin.  The silver ring was still in Yuri’s mouth and he gagged as fluid began to fill it.  Still, he didn’t try to move.  Eventually the stream stopped.  Alex pinched Yuri’s nose shut until he choked and swallowed.  Otabek’s stomach heaved. Yuri took in a gasping breath.

 

Otabek waited to see what depravity could come next, but Alex seemed spent.  He left Yuri kneeling on the sheet, dressed himself, and then left.  The front door clicked shut a moment later.

 

What was he supposed to do now?  It was obvious that Yuri wouldn’t be able to undo the cuffs himself.  Was Alex going to come back and untie him?  It seemed like hours passed as Yuri knelt on the sheet - which by now Otabek had realized must be rubber or vinyl to protect the floor - and Otabek waited.  Finally, Yuri’s head bowed and he crossed his fingers.

 

Otabek was moving before he even realized it.  The door to Yuri’s room was unlocked, and Otabek didn’t hesitate to cross the threshold.  In two steps he was at Yuri’s side, crouching down to undo the cuffs with deft fingers.  He had a fleeting thought that he was glad he was still wearing his boots, then his only thoughts were of making sure Yuri was unhurt.  Well- perhaps that was a foregone reality.  When they were released, Yuri’s hands flopped forward, his arms limp at his sides.  Otabek also unbuckled the gag and gently drew it out of Yuri’s mouth.  After a moment, he removed the collar as well.

 

Yuri swayed slightly, then pitched bonelessly forward.  Otabek caught him against his chest.  For one second, Yuri leaned into the warmth of Otabek’s chest, his eyes closed and his body relaxing.  Then he jerked back.  At first, Otabek thought it was his touch that had repulsed Yuri - and he would have understood that, considering what he’d just been through - but then he realized Yuri was staring in horror at the wet splotches on Otabek’s white shirt.  They both knew what those were.

 

“You-”  The word came out as a rasp.  Yuri cleared his throat painfully and tried again.  “You can go now.”  His voice was still hoarse, grating on Otabek’s conscience.  It was a foolish, ridiculous feeling.  Otabek wasn’t the one who’d done this to him.  Still, the guilt persisted.  Yuri tried to stand but fell back to his knees.  Instead of trying again, he waited.  It was obvious that he intended to wait for Otabek to leave and then crawl to the bathroom.

 

The thought of getting any more of Alex’s…  _ fluids _ on him was repugnant, but Otabek didn’t give a damn.  “I’ll help you get to the bathroom.”  He waited, not wanting to grab Yuri without his consent.  He thought Yuri had had enough of that for a lifetime.  “It’s what you’re paying me for, after all,” he added when Yuri continued to stare at the wet spots on his shirt.  Finally, he nodded, accepting Otabek’s help.  

 

Otabek scooped him up with one arm around his back and the other beneath his knees.  Yuri weighed next to nothing.  Otabek forced himself not to compare the way Yuri felt in his arms to the way a child would.  Not to think about what else had been done to him before Otabek had begun working for him.  Not to think about how many times Yuri had dragged himself to the bathroom to wash off god-only-knew what unspeakable substances.

 

He set Yuri on the edge of the tub and turned on the shower.  After adjusting the temperature, he helped Yuri stand beneath it and wash the evidence of his night’s activities down the drain.  Then, he put in the stopper and let the tub fill with hot water for Yuri to soak.  As soon as the water was off and Yuri had closed his eyes, Otabek stood, suddenly feeling like an intruder on a very private moment. He rose, clearing his throat awkwardly.

 

“I’ll just- I’ll get some towels for-” When Yuri’s eyes cracked open, Otabek gestured to the bedroom, not sure how to articulate  _ to clean up the piss _ any less crudely.

 

“Don’t!” Yuri sat up abruptly, his eyes wide.  Otabek froze.  “This might have been pushing it, but that is  _ not _ in your job description.  I’ll take care of it later.”

 

Otabek considered ignoring that.  Despite how distasteful he found the idea of cleaning up the mess, he didn’t like the idea of Yuri doing it after what he’d just been through.  Still, the look of almost wild desperation in Yuri’s eyes was enough to stay him.  He nodded, then turned to leave.

  
“Thank you.”  Yuri’s hoarse voice made him pause.  He struggled with a strange surge of emotion, then nodded again and left the bathroom


	4. Chapter 4

Otabek had waited in the living room till past midnight, but Yuri hadn’t ever emerged.  Eventually, Otabek had gone to bed, his restless sleep filled with dreams of Yuri writhing in both agony and ecstasy.

 

He was halfway through breakfast when Yuri finally came out.  Without a word, he put on the kettle and prepared a cup of tea with a healthy dollop of honey.

 

“If you want some of this-” Otabek gestured to the eggs he’d made for himself, “there’s still more in the pan.”

 

Yuri shook his head.  “No, thank you.”  He went back to sipping his tea.  Once again he was clothed from neck to toe, but this time the material was a soft cotton.  Otabek wondered if it was so that it didn’t chafe the marks he was sure to have.  They continued in strained silence for a while, Otabek clearing his plate even though he’d suddenly lost his appetite, and Yuri sipping his tea.  “If you have laundry that needs washed, I was going to bleach a load of whites today.”

 

The weight of what Yuri was really saying hung in the air between them.  Otabek’s white shirt had been soiled as he’d helped Yuri to the bathroom.  Yuri was offering to bleach it for him.  With the last of his breakfast gone, Otabek rose and rinsed his plate off in the sink.  “I’m sure I’ve got a few undershirts that could be washed.  It's no big deal -  I can always buy more, but if you’re doing a load anyways, I’d appreciate it.”  He waited, watching Yuri’s face to see that the meaning of his words got through.  Yuri nodded.  “Okay, I’ll go get them.”

 

Once the wash was started, they sat in the living room.  Yuri had a book in his lap, but he hadn’t picked it up to read yet.  Otabek finished another email to his equipment supplier asking him to rush his order, then noticed Yuri wincing as he shifted his shoulders. He tossed two pillows on the floor between his knees and cleared his throat.

 

“If you come here, I can help with the stiffness.”

 

Yuri stared at him, then chuckled.  “I’m assuming you didn’t mean that to be as dirty as it sounded.”   Otabek’s face flushed.

 

“No!  I meant-”

 

“I know what you meant.”  The humor left his eyes and they became carefully guarded.  “Taking care of me isn’t part of what I’m paying you for.”

 

“Massages aren’t a service I charge for.”

 

“You give them out for free to all your clients?”

 

Otabek shrugged.  It wasn’t something that happened often, no, but he’d done it before.  More than once, he’d massaged Jacob’s-  Otabek squashed the thought and forced his face to stay blank as he waited for Yuri.  It seemed like he was going to refuse, but after another stretch of silence, Yuri rose and carefully seated himself on the pillows between Otabek’s knees.  Without moving the material of his shirt aside, Otabek rested his hands on Yuri’s thin shoulders, giving him a moment to adjust to the sensation of Otabek’s touch.  When he relaxed, Otabek began, using his thumbs to force the knotted muscles of Yuri’s shoulders and upper back to uncoil.  On a particularly vicious knot, Yuri let out a small groan.  His hand flew to his mouth in surprise.

 

“Is this something they teach you in bodyguard school?” he asked, obviously to cover his discomfort.

 

“You could say that.”  Of course, there was no bodyguard school.  Most of the men and women who chose a career in protection had some background in martial arts or law enforcement, but there were other areas of education that helped.  Anatomy, medical training, trauma care…  A well rounded bodyguard was a full service, from pre to post altercations.  “Was last night- a more typical night for you?”  Otabek couldn’t imagine how he could handle such abuse on a regular basis.

 

“Not like that,” Yuri sighed.  “Alex’s tastes are probably the most extreme that I service.  And I think… He was angry when I told him you were here.  He was testing me.  Marking me.”

 

“Why did you let him go so far?”  Otabek kept his hands moving in slow, comforting circles even though his voice was tight.

 

“He pays a lot of money for the right to do whatever he wants to me.”

 

“You’ll really let him do anything to you?”

 

“No, not anything.  To be honest, I almost crossed my fingers yesterday.  That’s the longest he’s ever made me go without air.  But he stopped, so it’s fine.  I’m fine.”  That last part sounded like it was directed more at himself than at Otabek, so he didn’t reply.  He suddenly had a flash of the park the day before, asking Yuri what kind of snowcone he’d wanted.   _ Anything but yellow _ .  Otabek had the slightly hysterical urge to laugh and his stomach roiled.

 

“You should consider taking tomorrow off,” he finally said, finishing the massage and putting his hands in his lap.  “You said you don’t take clients on Monday and Tuesday, right?  That would give you some time for the marks to fade.”  Otabek could see the purplish ring around his neck and knew there would be matching bruises on his wrists and likely a few on his back.

 

“I’ll be fine.  Tomorrow’s client is an easy one, and I can cover most of the marks with makeup.  Usually I schedule Alex on Sunday so that I don’t have to, but he wasn’t available that day this week.”

 

“Does he usually leave marks on you, then?”  Otabek’s throat felt tight.  Yuri still hadn’t moved.  He was sitting on the pillows between Otabek’s knees, reclined against the front of the couch.  His head had lolled slightly to the side, almost resting on Otabek’s inner thigh.  When Yuri shrugged, Otabek felt the movement against his legs.

 

“Sometimes.  He likes variety.  I only limit him from anything that would scar.”

 

Otabek didn’t say anything for a long time.  What could he say?  The idea of Alex - or  _ any _ of Yuri’s clients - whipping him so hard they left a scar was grotesque.  Did he really think he would be able to control himself if next time it was a puddle of blood he found Yuri in, instead of urine?  Otabek wasn’t sure.  He wondered, not for the first time, if he’d made a mistake taking this job.  The problem was that already, the thought of  _ not _ being there if Yuri needed him was totally unacceptable. The idea had his stomach in knots and before he realized what he was doing, his fingers had started to run through the silky strands of Yuri’s hair soothingly.

 

Yuri didn’t object, but he looked up at Otabek from the corner of his eye.  Whatever he saw there must have appeased him, because he leaned into the gentle touch.  “I- I could braid it for you, if you want,” Otabek ventured after a few minutes.  Yuri looked at him sideways again.

 

“You know how?”  At Otabek’s nod, he smirked.  “Let me guess, another lesson at bodyguard school?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Go ahead then. If it looks ridiculous I’ll just brush it out.”  He reclined his head trustingly back into Otabek’s hands.  His fingers, deft despite their size, immediately separated out three small strands at Yuri’s temple and began to braid them.  Otabek had actually learned to braid on his little sister’s hair growing up.  He’d kept on doing it even after they’d become adults, braiding her hair almost every time he saw her until she’d moved out of the country with her husband.  He was sure that next time he visited her, he would be braiding her hair as well as her little girl’s.

 

When he had half a dozen small braids he wove them all together in a low crown and tucked the ends inside.  Yuri raised one hand to his head, surprised.  With his lips hitched in that crooked little smile he went to go look at it in the mirror.

 

“How did you do that?” he demanded when he returned to the living room. Otabek just shrugged, pleased with Yuri’s reaction.

 

“I guess we’ll have to add ‘hairdresser’ to your list of duties.  If I’m not careful you’re going to demand a raise.”

 

“Your bank account is safe.  I don’t charge for ameteur services, and this is hardly professional quality.”

 

Yuri touched the braids gently again.  “Could have fooled me, but I’m a cheap bastard, so I’m not going to argue about another freebie.”

 

Otabek only smiled.  Yuri kept the crown braid in the rest of the day.  They ate a quiet lunch together and afterwards Yuri finally read the book he’d been holding that morning.  With his next client not coming till late, Otabek took the opportunity to go for a jog and check the security of the building.  The loft was on the edge of town, close enough to the shops and cafes to be considered upscale, but not so close that the location made the price exorbitant.  The building itself was an old one, likely a factory that had been gutted and refurbished as apartments.  Yuri’s loft was half the top floor.  From the street, there was no outside access except an ancient fire escape that led to the living room window.  It was problematic, but there was no way Otabek would sleep through the sound of the glass breaking, and he could get to Yuri’s room faster than someone crawling through a shattered window pane.

 

Not that he expected any trouble like that.  Yuri hadn’t mentioned any overly zealous customers.  It wouldn’t surprise Otabek if there had been a few in the past, though.  Prostitutes, even high class ones like Yuri, were always at high risk of stalking and assault.  The thought was enough to keep him from becoming complacent with Yuri’s safety.

 

He showered when he got back, and by the time he was done, Yuri had made a small dinner.  They ate in comfortable silence, then Yuri went to get ready for his client.  This time when he came out, he had slipped a headband with cat ears through the braids, wore a delicate pink collar with a bell, and a soft robe.  Otabek spotted a  _ tail _ protruding slightly from beneath the hem of the robe.  He wondered for a moment where it was attached.  Instead of asking, he sat back and quirked an eyebrow.  Yuri flipped him the bird.  Otabek hissed at him.  They both laughed.

 

It was perhaps the most absurd night of Otabek’s life.  There was a knock at the door, then Yuri took off the robe and tossed it aside.  Otabek was left with no questions as to where the tail was attached, as Yuri was completely naked beneath the robe.  Strangely, the thing that Otabek noticed all of a sudden wasn’t the cat-tail butt plug, but the fact that Yuri’s fingernails and toenails were painted the same pale pink as his collar.  They looked almost like blunt claws.

 

Otabek stayed in view when the client walked in, a short man in his fifties with a slight limp.  The man glanced somewhat nervously at Otabek, but Yuri distracted him with a smile and a few soft words.  A moment later the man was stroking Yuri’s head the way one would a cat, and Yuri was nuzzling into the touch.  They went into the bedroom without a look back.

 

The client seemed as easy as Yuri had claimed.  As Otabek watched on the laptop, the man petted and stroked every bare inch of Yuri’s body.  Once they moved to the bed, Yuri lapped at his ‘owner’s’ small erection the way a kitten would lap at a bowl of cream.  When the moans of pleasure turned urgent and breathy, Yuri slipped the tail out and began riding him.  Strands of hair at the nape of Yuri’s neck and at his temples had come loose from the braid and they were what Otabek focused on.  Not on the sight of Yuri moving smoothly up and down, a slick cock disappearing into his body over and over again.  Not on the fake look of pleasure on his face that seemed almost comically out of place considering his penis was lying limp against his thigh.  Instead he watched those fine golden strands float free, wispy and wild, then start to become damp and weighed down against Yuri’s skin.

 

The display was over fairly quickly compared to the events of the previous two nights.  Only a few moments after he’d come, the client patted Yuri’s head somewhat awkwardly, dressed himself, and left.

 

Half an hour later, Yuri came out of his room with hair still damp from his shower.  

 

“I made some catnip- I mean  _ camomile _ tea, if you want some,” Otabek said, trying to keep a straight face.  Yuri mock scowled at him, made a lewd gesture, then poured himself a cup of tea.

 

“If you have any more cat jokes, by all means, get them out of your system now,” Yuri urged as he settled himself into the plush rocking chair.

 

“Don’t worry, that was my only one.  I might make fish for lunch tomorrow, though.”

 

“You’re so clever,” Yuri praised sarcastically.

 

“You pay me for my brawn, not my brain.”  He waited a beat, then added, “and apparently people pay you to be a fuckable cat.”

 

“I specialize in fetish, it’s part of why I’m living here and not in a cardboard box in some back alley.  If that’s what they want, then I give it to them.”

 

Otabek snorted.  “But… a cat?”

 

“I’ve been told my features are already somewhat feline.  It’s not that great a leap.  Besides, cats are beautiful.  Graceful and poised.”

 

“And totally unfuckable, no matter how small that guy’s dick was.”

 

Yuri nearly choked on his tea as he laughed.  “Yes, well I suppose we can be grateful he’s paying to stick it in me and not doing unspeakable things to some poor cat.”  Otabek raised his own cup of tea in cheers to the sentiment.  He drained the rest of the mug and rinsed it in the sink, then returned to the couch.

 

“So tomorrow and Tuesday you’ll be off?”

 

“I don’t take clients those days usually, no.  That’s why I thought they would be practical as days off for you.”

 

“Do you have a preference if I stay here or go back to my apartment?”

 

“Not really.  You’re already buying half the groceries and the utilities are included in the rent, so it’s not a strain having you here but you’re welcome to come and go as you wish on your time off.”

 

“Let me clarify: is there any reason it would be better if I was around, even if not in a professional capacity?  Any concerns you have for your safety outside of sessions with clients?”

 

Yuri hesitated, and instantly Otabek was on alert.  “I don’t-  No, not really.”  He seemed flustered, almost embarrassed.

 

“Mr Plisetsky, if there’s any chance-”

 

“There’s not.  It’s fine.”

 

“Mr Plisetsky, really-”

 

“Stop calling me that!” he snapped, slamming his cup on the table petulantly.  Taken aback, Otabek paused.  Yuri’s sense of decorum caught up with his waspish tongue and he grudgingly sought to rectify his harsh words.  “My name is Yuri.  Mr Plisetsky was my father, and I hated my father.”

 

“...alright, Yuri then.  You need to be practical about this.  I can’t do my job properly if I don’t know all the facts.  Even something minor can snowball into something more dangerous if it’s not dealt with right away.”  Still, Yuri seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything.  “This is what you’re paying me for,” Otabek reminded him.  “You might as well make the most of that.”  For the second time, that argument seemed to work.  Yuri huffed, picking his tea back up and finishing it off.

 

“It’s nothing, really.  A few letters, some texts, overly graphic and vaguely threatening.  It could be someone I turned down as a client, or just someone I stopped seeing.  I don’t have any reason to believe that it’s more serious than a disgruntled prank.”

 

“But something about them made you uneasy,” Otabek presumed.  Yuri hesitated again.

 

“It didn’t bother me or anything,” he insisted.  “It’s just that the last one I got, right before I contacted you, had a picture of me in it.  Not a picture from the website, but a picture of me…” he waved his hand vaguely.  “I was getting coffee at the shop down the street.  It made me… uncomfortable that someone sending nasty notes was taking pictures of me so close to my home.”  Yuri forced the words out distastefully.

 

“It was a recent picture?”

 

Yuri nodded.  “Taken a day or two before it was sent.”

 

“What did the note with it say?”

 

“The usual childish word porn.  Plans to fuck me, how I’d squeal.  Nothing that bothered me.”

 

“You had every right for that to upset you, Yuri.  Going from just notes to stalking you and taking pictures is the beginning of a progression of escalation.  Something like this could get out of hand if not dealt with right away. You shouldn’t have to worry about being watched every time you walk down the street.”

 

“I don’t worry,” Yuri objected.  Otabek sighed, frustrated at Yuri’s near obsession with his bravado.

 

“Do you think I’m going to mock you for needing help?  This is how I make my living.  I deal with things like this on a regular basis, and I know how much they can affect your sense of safety, of your security, even in your own home.  I’ve seen first hand that the life you lead is dangerous.  It’s  _ smart _ to be wary of someone threatening you.  And there’s nothing shameful about needing a professional to handle the situation.  Why does it bother you so much to admit that you’re afraid of anything?”

 

“I may play helpless for my clients, but I’m  _ not _ helpless.  I’m not a child who’s going to cower at a crude note.  I’m a grown fucking man.  I know the risks I take with this job. I can deal with them.”

 

“You don’t  _ have _ to.  That’s what you hired me for.”  Otabek sat forward so that he could touch Yuri’s knee lightly.  “And being a man doesn’t mean you’re immune to fear.  If you don’t want to admit that fear to anyone else, fine, but don’t hide it from me.”

 

Yuri stared at him for so long that Otabek couldn’t tell if he was going to storm away or move closer.  His eyes jumped from Otabek’s, down to where he was resting his fingers on Yuri’s knee.  Finally, he took a slow breath and let it out.  “Alright, it scared me.  I emailed you the next day - not that I think it’s going to escalate or whatever - but because I didn’t like it, and this isn’t something I can handle on my own.  It’s not like the police would take it seriously.”

 

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right.  Unless someone has actively tried to hurt you, there isn’t much they can go on, not to mention the stigma around your profession.  But I can take a few extra precautions around the loft and keep an eye out for anyone who might be loitering around.  I’ve got a few things to do in the next two days, but I’ll stay here overnight, and I won’t be seen leaving when I go out.  There shouldn’t be any reason for you to be concerned in the loft.”

 

“Good.  Good, then.”  Yuri stood abruptly, Otabek’s hand falling away in the process.  “I’m going to bed.”  He turned stiffly, obviously wanting to collect himself after admitting so much.  “That’s not the only reason I hired you, you know,” he added as he walked away.  “I really do need someone to enforce my limits and help if things go too far.  And I was tired of paying for taxis.  Did I mention I’m not paying you mileage on your car?  Because I’m not.”

  
Otabek just laughed.  “I’ll make sure to note it in the contract.”


	5. Chapter 5

True to his word, Otabek made sure that he wasn’t seen when he left the loft the next day.  His first stop was his apartment, to switch out his laundry, water the plants, and get the keys to his motorcycle.  He rode it out of the city that afternoon, enjoying the last warmth of the dying summer and the stretch of freedom that could only be found speeding down the highway on his bike.  That evening he had an uneventful drink with a few friends, then slipped back into the loft just after dark.  Yuri poked his head out of his bedroom at the sound of the door, gave Otabek a mocking single finger salute, then disappeared back inside.

 

The next day passed just as quickly as the first.  Otabek rose early, slipped out of the loft, and did an intensive workout.  In the afternoon, he stayed home and watched ridiculous tv shows that he would never admit to liking and indulged in junk food that Yuri would probably have turned his nose up at. When he returned to Yuri’s on foot, he checked that no one was skulking around outside or watching the building.  His search turned up no one, so he let himself in.  Yuri again barely acknowledged his return, and Otabek wondered if he was still embarrassed over having admitted the notes had frightened him, or if he was simply being unsociable.  Otabek figured he was allowed either one, and didn’t let it offend him.

 

By breakfast Wednesday morning, things seemed to be back to normal.  Yuri had risen before Otabek and made breakfast, which he shared.  They went to the park again after that, Yuri not seeming nearly so out of place in his long sleeves now that there was a slight chill to the air.  Otabek got a text from his equipment supplier just as they were leaving that Yuri’s panic button was done, so after walking Yuri back to the loft, he drove over to pick it up.  It was exactly what he’d ordered, and twice as pretty as he’d expected, so he tipped the man generously and thanked him for rushing the order.

 

Yuri had just finished making lunch when Otabek returned - two meals in one day; Otabek was beginning to feel spoiled by the chef service - and he waited until after they’d eaten to show Yuri the piece.

 

As soon as Otabek opened the box, he could tell by the look of shock on Yuri’s face that he’d been expecting something garish and ugly.  Instead, the ring was slender and delicate looking.  Three gold threads had been braided into a single circle.  It was simple without being boring, the gold high quality with no stones or extra color to distract from it.  At the bottom of the band, nestled between the weave, was a tiny button.  It wasn’t visible unless searched for, and didn’t protrude enough to be felt except by the wearer.

 

“It’ll be hard to set off accidentally, so don’t worry about that.”  Otabek lifted Yuri’s right hand and slid the ring onto his thumb.  “Make a fist,” he instructed.  Yuri obeyed, his forefinger coming to rest exactly atop the panic button.  “Do you feel that?”  Yuri nodded.  It was so small that it was barely noticeable beneath his fingertip, but he could feel where it was.  “Now press down on it.”

 

Immediately after he did, the black receiver Otabek had on a chain around his neck vibrated strongly and lit up.  It wasn’t something he would be able to miss or even sleep through.  “You press that, I’ll come running, anytime day or night.”  Yuri pressed it again, watching the receiver buzz in reaction.  “I’m not going to tell you not to cry wolf with it or eventually I won’t come, because that’s not how this works.  I will come  _ any _ time, no matter what.  But I do  _ prefer _ if you don’t press it as a joke,” he added with a smile.

 

“No using it to call for toilet paper, then?”

 

“It’s your panic button,” Otabek said with a shrug.  “But of course I prefer it to only be used in emergencies.  And if I were to break down the bathroom door in my haste to get to you, I’m sure you’d be unhappy.”

 

Yuri’s lips hitched into a small smile, and he seemed as if a weight had left him.  With the ring on, he looked more relaxed than Otabek had ever seen him, except perhaps the night Otabek had braided his hair.  Otabek wondered just how much he’d been worrying about his safety and not letting it show.

 

“Well then,” Yuri said with a smirk as he stood up, “I guess that means the end of the free shows for you.  I hope you got enough spank bank material last week.”  Otabek fought a grimace.  “Then again, I suppose I could always leave the camera if voyeurism is really your thing.  For a small fee, of course.”

 

“I’ll pass, thanks all the same.”

 

“Prude,” Yuri said with a laugh.  Otabek just rolled his eyes and went to help Yuri take down the camera.

 

After a light dinner, Otabek took up his usual place in the corner chair to wait.  Yuri had gone to get ready for his client.  This one was yet another client who hadn’t seen Yuri’s new guard yet, and he planned to stay in the living room until after the pair went to Yuri’s room.  After that, he was going to close himself into his bedroom and hope that the noise of whatever they were doing didn’t carry enough for him to hear the gory details.

 

Still, there was a part of him that did want to see.  Not for ‘spank bank material’ as Yuri had called it - though Otabek could admit freely that there had been a few erotic sights between the more repugnant ones - but so that he would  _ know _ .  So that he would know if Yuri’s shoulders were sore and he could use a massage.  He would know if it had been a particularly difficult scene and Yuri needed gentleness and comfort.  Otabek wasn’t sure he would always be able to see through Yuri’s hard, crass exterior to what he wouldn’t admit that he needed.

 

The client arrived just on time, and he spared an angry glance over to Otabek before Yuri distracted him with a flash of whatever was beneath the robe he’d kept on.  They disappeared into the bedroom a moment later and shut the door behind them.  Otabek went back to his room and tried to distract himself from his thoughts of what was happening down the hall by doing work on his laptop.  Soon enough, though, faint sounds were coming through the door, distracting him from the numbers on the screen.   

 

It was easy enough, after the things he’d seen the week before, for Otabek to imagine what could be happening to Yuri.  None of it sat well with him.  Even the old man on Sunday night had been distasteful, and not just because of the cat fetish.  Yuri didn’t want to have sex with these men.  He wasn’t aroused by their tastes, he felt nothing at all for them.  The fact that he was letting them use his body, then, seemed wrong.  It was the basic premise of prostitution, Otabek knew, but that didn’t ease the knot in his stomach any.  Still, he was going to have to learn to live with the unease, because this was Yuri’s career, and Otabek had signed himself up for a nightly earful.

 

The sounds became louder and more urgent, broken by strange pauses.  After several minutes, they were clear enough for Otabek to pick out phrases.  ‘Too hot,’ ‘please,’ and ‘it hurts,’ echoed down the hall, one after the other.  Otabek tensed.  The panic button receiver, lying snugly against his chest, remained still and dark.  The begging grew louder, interspersed with cries of pain.  Otabek tried to tell himself that it was part of a scene.  Even if Yuri’s hands were bound, he would be able to push the panic button if he needed help.  They’d tested it only a few hours ago and it had worked fine.  There was no reason to think-

 

“Don’t!  Please-”  There was another cry of pain.  “It hurts so badly!  Please stop!  No!”

 

Otabek was moving before he’d given himself permission to.  Yuri’s pained voice was still echoing down the hall.  It took Otabek half the number of steps he thought it would to reach the door, and what felt like no more than the barest touch for it to burst open.  Training and experience had him taking in the entire scene in a fraction of a second.  Yuri was stretched on the bed, his wrists tied together but not attached to anything.  The client was straddling him, using a lit candle to drip hot wax onto Yuri’s chest and stomach, the trail coming dangerously close to his groin.  Yuri’s eyes had time to snap to Otabek’s, and his entire face changed, but Otabek was already across the room.  He grabbed the client with a single hand around his throat and wrenched him off the bed.  With a terrified shriek, the man dropped the candle, and Otabek doused the flame with the heel of his boot as he slammed the man against the wall.

 

“Otabek!”  Yuri scrambled off the bed and tugged sharply at Otabek’s arm.  Otabek kept his hand around the client’s throat, but turned to look back at Yuri.  He looked furious, the anger in his eyes directed at Otabek seeming totally in contrast with the tears quickly drying on his cheeks.  “What the fuck are you doing?!”

 

“Are you alright?” Otabek demanded, ignoring Yuri’s question.  He assumed it was obvious what he was doing, though he was beginning to think that he’d made a mistake.

 

“I’m  _ fine _ !  Let him go!”  His attention turned to the very pale man in Otabek’s loosening grasp.  “Ian, I am so sorry.  He’s new, and an idiot, obviously.  This is all just a misunderstanding.”

 

Otabek released the man, who barely stayed on his feet.  He coughed and rubbed his throat, glaring daggers at Otabek before turning back to Yuri.  “Put a leash on your dog,” he demanded, voice higher pitched than he perhaps intended.  Otabek blanched.  Yuri grabbed a fistfull of his shirt and yanked him forward by it.  Otabek had to comply for them to move, but he was surprised at how strong Yuri was.  Yuri half dragged him to the door and shoved roughly through it.

 

“Did I press the panic button?” he demanded.  Otabek could only shake his head.  There was no sense in trying to make excuses.  “We were in the middle of a  _ scene _ , you stupid fuck!  Ignore whatever you hear, and wait for me to actually want your help before you come charging in here like Don Quixote after imaginary enemies.”  He slammed the door in Otabek’s face, leaving his hissed words and odd literary references ringing in Otabek’s ears.

 

He ignored the shouting behind the door.  He tried not to think that the client would be taking his anger at Otabek out on Yuri.  He closed himself back in his bedroom and forced himself not to react to whatever he heard.  It wasn’t until an hour later when the front door opened and shut that Otabek got up and numbly walked to the living room.  He’d made a mistake.  He wouldn’t be surprised if Yuri fired him on the spot.  Not for the first time - though maybe for the last, if he got what he deserved - Otabek thought that perhaps this wasn’t a job he could do.  He stopped at the edge of the sofa, waiting.  Yuri was standing by the door wrapped in his robe again, expression livid.

 

“Stop looking like a scolded puppy,” he snapped.  “I want to berate you and you’re making it fucking difficult.”

 

Obediently, Otabek schooled his expression to a blank one.  Even his posture changed, his shoulders going back and his chin up.  He stared at a spot on the wall over Yuri’s head.

 

“What the fu-  Jesus Christ!  Are you expecting me to take a whip to you?”  Otabek didn’t reply.  “Look at me!” That Otabek didn’t ignore.  He looked down at Yuri, who seemed torn between his anger and shock.  “You fucked up.  I  _ told _ you not to go into that room unless you got the signal or I hit that button.  Did I do either of those?”

 

“No.”

 

“But you still thought it would be a good idea to charge in and try to save the fucking day.  A little wax wasn’t agony.  Ian gets off on the begging!  He pukes at the sight of blood for god’s sake!  You ruined the scene completely!”  Yuri threw his hands into the hair in frustration.  “Do you have any idea what I had to do to get it back on track?  He could have demanded his money back!”

 

“I will pay it if he does.”

 

“You can’t afford me,” Yuri hissed.  “That’s not the point.  I can’t have you barging into scenes any time you don’t like what you hear!”

 

“It won’t happen again.”

 

“You’re damn fucking right it won’t.”  And there it was.  Otabek found himself more disappointed than he’d expected, for all that he’d thought it was perhaps for the best.  He braced himself and waited for Yuri to fire him.   _ Who’ll be there to untie him next time that bastard Alex leaves him bound and gagged in a puddle of piss _ , he wondered despondently.  “Next time, you’re going to do what you’re fucking told, and you’re going to stay the fuck out of that room unless I call you in there with the fucking panic button.”

 

Otabek sat down on the couch with a thump.  “Next time?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes, next time.  There aren’t going to be any more heroic displays on my behalf unless I actually need them.”   _ Heroic displays? _  “I’m incredibly pissed off at you, despite how hot that was.”   _ Hot? _  “And to punish you, because I do think you deserve to be severely punished-”  Yuri walked forward slowly, hips swaying just enough to make Otabek’s eyes stray to them.  “I’m going to tell you what happened after I placated Ian.”  He sat himself in Otabek’s lap, his robe riding dangerously high on his thighs.  The arm of it slipped down, displaying one perfect, bare shoulder.  “I’ll tell you how much your little show turned me on, got me hard…”  Yuri’s breath ghosted against Otabek’s neck, his tongue flicked the tip of his earlobe.  “And once I had him on his back, I rode his cock thinking of you… and came all over his chest wishing it was you fucking me.”

 

Otabek couldn’t breathe.  He’d literally forgotten how.  His chest began to burn and some sliver of his brain wondered when he’d last had any oxygen but the rest of it didn’t give a single damn.  All he could focus on was Yuri in his lap, the weight of him, the heat of him, against Otabek’s suddenly throbbing erection.  He could picture the scene Yuri described perfectly, thanks to having watched Yuri with more than one client on the camera.  The only part missing was actual pleasure on Yuri’s face, his cock hard, and an orgasm wringing his body dry.  Otabek could imagine those well enough.  He could imagine he was the one fucking Yuri as he came, too.  His cock twitched.  Yuri shifted his hips so that his ass pressed hard against the eager length beneath it.  Otabek couldn’t stop a growl from escaping his throat.  Yuri laughed and pushed to his feet.

 

“Now you get to sleep with  _ that _ .”  He pointed down to the obvious bulge in Otabek’s pants.  “And let me warn you, jerking off won’t make it go down.  You’ll just have to sleep on your back.”  He smirked wickedly, then turned and practically skipped back to his bedroom.

 

Otabek had to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing something incredibly stupid.  Like going after him.  Of course it had been an act.  An incredibly erotic act performed by an incredibly talented escort who knew exactly what buttons to push.  Otabek took in a gasping breath, realizing that his lungs had been screaming for air.  It was, perhaps, the perfect punishment for his crime.

  
When he felt that he could, Otabek rose and made his way stiffly to his bedroom.  He absolutely refused to give himself  _ or _ Yuri the pleasure of masturbating in a furtive effort to get rid of his still throbbing erection.  Fuck, he really was going to have to sleep on his back.


	6. Chapter 6

Yuri had slept exceptionally well the night before.  It wasn’t often that he had orgasms because he  _ wanted _ to, and not as a show for a client.  He’d almost forgotten how relaxed they made him.

 

Ian had been more than placated after Yuri had come spectacularly on him.  It wasn’t the crying and begging that he usually preferred, but seeing Yuri so vulnerable and undone was enough.  Of course, he had no clue that Yuri’s orgasm had come from thinking of someone else.  And he would have been terribly offended if he knew that Yuri’s arousal had only come from watching his bodyguard slam Ian against the wall by his throat in (mistaken) defense of Yuri.  

 

God that had been hot.

 

As much as he’d turned it into a punishment for Otabek - one he well deserved, of course - Yuri couldn’t deny that the display had been the most arousing thing Yuri had ever witnessed.  Maybe all the years of fulfilling other people’s fetish fantasies had given Yuri a few kinky inclinations of his own.   It had to be perverse for him to get off on the thought of Otabek defending him so violently.  Right?

 

Yuri didn’t consider himself a sexual person really, despite his profession.  He had very few sexual desires of his own, and before becoming an escort he hadn’t given much thought to pursuing a relationship.  Admittedly, he had been very young, but it seemed that most people who ended up in prostitution started young, and he knew several escorts who had very decided sexual tastes all the same.

 

Maybe he’d just never met anyone like Otabek before.  He was certainly the biggest man Yuri had ever seen.  Not the most classically handsome, no, but there was something undeniably arresting about the dark slashes of his eyebrows, the stern set of his lips, the strong, square line of his jaw.  If he was being honest with himself, Yuri had been attracted to Otabek from the start.

 

The fact that he had a reputation for being trustworthy, honorable, and steadfast had only added to that attraction.  A man like Yuri should have thought that Otabek’s ‘goodness’ was ridiculous.  It should have amused him.  Instead, he found that he respected Otabek for it.  Not that he would act on any of that.  His body was a highly sought after commodity.  He didn’t have any real inclination to give it away for free, especially since the reality of going to bed with Otabek would never live up to the fantasy.  And Otabek was such a chump that he probably wouldn’t like the idea of Yuri fucking other men if they had sex.  What a hassle  _ that _ would be.

 

No, Yuri would keep his attraction to his bodyguard a secret, he would keep taking clients as he always had, and if he indulged in a fantasy on his own time every now and again, well no one would be the wiser.

 

The client he had that night was an easy enough one to service, even if the setup was a pain in the ass.  Yuri’s whole body had to be dusted in gold powder, his eyes lined darkly, a delicate chain draped from his nipple piercings, and gold colored leather cuffs tied onto his wrists and ankles.  All that had to be done in addition to his regular cleaning and preparing.  And it was an incredible pain in the ass trying not to smudge the gold dust with lube as he stretched himself.

 

Strangely, the look on Otabek’s face when he saw Yuri in the slave getup made all the hassle worth it.  He wondered what Otabek would be thinking when he saw Yuri get on his knees and greet his ‘master’ by kissing his feet.  Would he be turned on?  Would it make him angry?  Jealous?

 

As his client admired Yuri’s perfectly executed greeting, he dared a glance at Otabek and found his face disappointingly blank.  If not for the slight dilation of his pupils and the way his fingers dug into the arms of the chair, Yuri would have thought he was totally unaffected.  Still, it was something.  Yuri smothered his smile and followed Derek to the bedroom.

 

***

 

Otabek was beginning to think he really had seen it all.  After the golden outfit - could it be called an outfit since there had been such a distinct lack of clothes? - the day before, Otabek didn’t know what else Yuri could come out in that would shock him.  But as if Yuri had heard that thought and took it as a challenge, he again shocked the hell out of Otabek by walking out to meet the next night’s client in seven inch stiletto heels.

 

Otabek hadn’t even known they made heels that high, let alone that a human would be able to walk on them.  Of course, Yuri made it look easy, gliding to the door without a single wobble or misstep.  The heels made him nearly taller than the client he greeted, whose eyes were instantly glued to the shoes.  Otabek noticed as he followed the man’s gaze, that Yuri’s toes had been painted to match the color of the heels.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know exactly what they planned to do in the bedroom, but Otabek could spot a foot fetish when he saw one.

 

It wasn’t that Yuri didn’t have lovely feet.  He did; they were pale and shapely and soft.  Still, that wasn’t exactly the part he would be focusing on if he had full access to Yuri’s body.  Aaand on that note, he went back to his room to try and shut out the sounds of sex.


	7. Chapter 7

“My client tonight wants me to go to his place,” Yuri informed Otabek the next morning.  Otabek paused eating his breakfast and looked up.

 

“Why?”  It was far more difficult to keep control of a situation when you lost home field advantage.  Already, Otabek was thinking of the best way to scope out an unfamiliar house and check for security threats without being so overt that it offended Yuri’s client.

 

“It happens sometimes.  Tucker likes to mix things up.  He’s probably got some new sex swing he wants to put me in or something.”

 

Otabek made a face at that.  “Will there be time for me to go in ahead of time and do a sweep?”

 

“I don’t see why not.  Tucker’s a bit of a tool, but I don’t think he’s dangerous.  Something quick should be plenty.  As long as you’re discreet it should be fine.”

 

It still wasn’t ideal - hell, ideal would be Yuri not fucking strangers at all, but that wasn’t Otabek’s call to make - but he would manage.  

 

They left just after dinner.  Otabek worried that Yuri hadn’t eaten much, which usually meant that he expected a rough night.  Since he wasn’t wearing a specific outfit, Otabek had no way of knowing what Yuri would be doing… aside from the obvious.

 

Yuri directed him to a large townhouse in a rich neighborhood.  They were greeted at the door by a man that Yuri introduced as Tucker.  He was far younger than any of Yuri’s other clients so far, with an easy smile and classically handsome features.  Otabek snidely wondered what was wrong with him that he couldn’t find sex on his own with such a pretty face.

 

He left the two of them in the foyer, Yuri charming Tucker into a slow laugh.  The townhouse was spacious, but it was easy enough to do a basic check of the rooms.  It wasn’t until he got to the master bedroom that he ran into a problem.  There were two men waiting inside, sprawled casually in chairs, joking with each other as they drank beer.

 

“Who the hell are you?” one of them demanded when Otabek opened the door.  Otabek froze.  Was this in the plan and Yuri just hadn’t told him about it?   That didn’t seem likely.  Yes, Yuri liked to shock him, but not usually with something like this.  The second man rose and walked right into Otabek’s personal space, obviously trying to look intimidating.

 

“He asked you a question.  Who the fuck are you?”

 

Otabek hated men like this.  He looked down at the idiot disdainfully.  The man raised his hand to shove Otabek back, and Otabek snatched his wrist.  In one quick flip, he spun the guy around and had his arm pinned behind his back, his hand bent at an unnatural angle, forcing him up to his toes to keep his wrist from breaking.  “I’m the escort’s bodyguard, that’s who the fuck I am.  What are you doing here?”

 

“The hooker has a bodyguard?”  The one who’d spoken first was now on his feet, holding his beer out in front of him as if it would fend Otabek off.  “Look, we’re just here to join in the action, man.  There’s no need to get bent out of shape.”

 

“You were invited?”

 

“Yes!  Let me go!  You’re gonna break my fucking arm!”  The man Otabek was holding began to squirm, and Otabek reluctantly released him.  “That hurt, cocksucker!”

 

“Otabek?  What’s going on?”  Yuri’s voice made Otabek turn.  He and Tucker had just walked in, Yuri already halfway undressed.  Tucker had a possessive arm around his waist.

 

“I found these two in here when I was doing my sweep.  They claim to have been invited.”

 

“Tucker?”  Yuri looked up at the man holding him, who just smiled and shrugged.

 

“I thought it’d be fun to spice things up, spread the love.”

 

Yuri’s eyes took in the three men, all of whom were bigger than him.  Tucker obviously hadn’t told him ahead of time that he would be servicing three clients instead of just one.  Otabek wondered if he would have been given a choice, if he’d come alone.  Yuri’s eyes were wide and uncertain when they flashed to Otabek.  The bodyguard stepped closer to him automatically, but then Yuri’s face slipped into his flirty mask again.

 

“You know my rules, Tucker.  No unprotected sex without a blood test first.  I don’t think your friends will want to wait around for the doctor to arrive.”

 

“They don’t mind wearing rubbers, do you guys?”  Both men nodded in agreement.

 

“I’ll even let you pick your flavor, baby,” the first one added.  Again, Yuri’s eyes flashed to Otabek.  There wasn’t trepidation in them this time, but something else instead.  It almost looked like shame.

 

“Well I’m willing to let your friends stay and play,” he finally said with a smile, “but for triple price.”  Tucker looked like he would balk at the charge, and Otabek hoped to hell that he would, but after a moment, Tucker agreed.

 

“Alright, then.  We’ll get our money’s worth.”  

 

It sounded like a threat, to Otabek.  He didn’t want to leave the room.  Yuri turned to him to tell him to go, but Tucker cut him off.  “Why not let him stay?” he asked with a snicker.  “I think it’ll be quite a show.”

 

“He’s squeamish about nudity,” Yuri lied easily.  “Besides, don’t you think my attention will be divided enough between the three of you?”

 

The second man, still rubbing his sore wrist, nodded eagerly.  Otabek waited for Yuri to jerk his head at the door, then left and pulled it closed behind him.  In his head, he was picturing Yuri as a bone that three dogs were about to pounce on.  The image made his scalp prickle.

 

Why had Yuri lied?  He knew watching didn’t bother Otabek.  He’d done it before.  Wouldn’t it have been safer for Yuri if Otabek was right there in the room in case things went south?  Despite the fact that he’d claimed earlier Tucker wasn’t dangerous, Otabek didn’t trust him.  He’d had those men waiting in his room so that Yuri wouldn’t know they were there until he was shut in with them.  It had been a trap.  And perhaps, even if Otabek hadn’t been there, Yuri would have simply renegotiated his price.  But if he’d decided to turn them down, he would have been dependent on their goodwill to get out of there.

 

Otabek thought about the look he’d seen in Yuri’s eyes right before he’d agreed.  The almost-shame.  Except that couldn’t be right.  This was his job.  Otabek knew that.  What difference did it make whether it was one man at a time or ten?  Yuri had never given any indication that he felt guilty or even mild moral upset about his career.  So why would he look that way at Otabek when agreeing to service two more men?

 

None of this night made sense, and the longer it went on, the more uneasy Otabek became.  Yuri usually spent at most, two or three hours with clients from start to finish.  He had already been with these ones for almost four hours.  If not for the fact that they’d double checked that the panic button was working fine right before they’d come, Otabek would be starting to worry.  

 

Who was he kidding?  He was already worrying.  What if somehow he couldn’t press the button?  It was highly, highly unlikely.  It had been designed so that it could be pushed in almost any circumstances, and it would go off if it was removed.

 

At nearly five hours, Otabek was pacing the hall to keep from bursting in and checking on Yuri.  The memory of his mistake at the beginning of the week held him back.  He had to trust that Yuri would call him if he needed him.  In the meantime, his job was just to wait.

 

He was at the end of the hall and just turning back when the door finally opened.  Yuri stumbled through it first, his legs shaking.  Otabek crossed the distance to him quickly enough that the three men who followed him out stepped back in shock.

 

“Woah, bit overprotective, there, is he?”  Tucker clapped his hand on Yuri’s back, making him lurch forward slightly.  It took all of Otabek’s willpower not to deck the smug look of the man’s face.  Instead, he held his arm out to Yuri, who leaned on it.  

 

Yuri forced out a weak laugh.  “Only as protective as I pay him to be.  We kept him waiting an awfully long time, though, so I’m sure he’s grumpy.”

 

“I didn’t think the hired help had the right to be grumpy.”  The implication that that included  _ Yuri _ wasn’t lost on either of them.  Yuri’s teeth flashed in a cold smile.

 

“You try telling that to a man that could kill you as easy as opening a pop can.”

 

Otabek glowered at the three men until they quelled.  Bravado was one thing, but Otabek far outweighed all three of them.  They would drop like flies if they crossed him.  No one else said anything as they walked out.  Otabek wanted to carry Yuri, but he could see that Yuri was forcing himself to stay on his feet.  It wasn’t until they were through the front door and out into the cool night air that his knees buckled.  Otabek scooped him up immediately, carrying him quickly to the car.  “I’m going to owe you another load of laundry, if we’re not careful,” Yuri mumbled.  Otabek understood the warning about what might get on him if he held Yuri too close, but he didn’t give a damn.

 

“Clothes are disposable.  People aren’t.”

 

“Some are.”  It was said so softly that Otabek wasn’t sure he heard it correctly.  He wondered if Yuri had meant himself, or Tucker.  When he deposited Yuri gently into the passenger seat, he crouched beside it and tilted Yuri’s head, which had lolled back against the headrest, down again.

 

“Are you alright, Yuri?  Do you need medical attention?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yuri huffed quietly.  “I just want to get home and clean up.”  Otabek nodded, having to take his word for it.  He drove them back to the loft as quickly as it was safe to do so.  Even still, Yuri fell asleep on the ride.

 

If the circumstances had been different, Otabek wouldn’t have woken him up as he carried him upstairs, but he didn’t think Yuri would want to go to bed without showering first.  He brought Yuri into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and gently shook him awake.

 

“Yuri…  Yuri, I’ve got the water going for a shower.  Can you stand on your own?”

 

“M fine,” Yuri slurred, blinking one eye open and then forcing the other to join it.  “Just need out of these-” he plucked at his clothes, struggling to take them off with clumsy fingers.

 

“Do you want me to help you?”

 

Yuri nodded, and Otabek helped him slip out of his now sticky shirt and pants.  He tossed them by the door, resolved to wash them himself as soon as he was done helping Yuri.  Otabek let Yuri lean heavily on him as he stepped into the shower, swaying dangerously under the spray.  He reached for the bar of soap and it slipped from his fingers.  He whimpered softly.  “Are you comfortable with me doing that?” Otabek asked, picking up the soap and offering it to Yuri.  He didn’t really relish the idea of rinsing ejaculate from three men off, but the idea of leaving Yuri to try and wash himself was worse.

 

Yuri turned his head so that he could see Otabek more clearly.  He was standing directly under the spray of water, so his hair hung forward and water ran down his face in rivulets.  He looked… vulnerable.  Not the false aura that he exuded on first sight, nor the act he put on for clients, but true vulnerability.  He seemed to be weighing Otabek somehow.  Judging him, and with those piercing eyes, Otabek felt as though Yuri could see right through him.  Any moment now he would be found deficient and sent from the room.

 

Instead, Yuri nodded and pushed the soap back into Otabek’s hands.  After quickly stripping off his dress shirt, Otabek leaned into the spray, ignoring the way the water soaked his t-shirt.  He lathered the soap between his hands and ran them gently over Yuri’s skin.  Once he had rinsed away the worst of the mess, Otabek put shower gel on the wash rag hanging from the faucet, then began scrubbing Yuri lightly.  Yuri swayed with every small movement, and Otabek tried to be even softer, even gentler, in response, but Yuri wouldn’t let him.

 

“Harder,” he mumbled, then tried again, louder.  “Harder. I don’t want to feel… I don’t want to feel it.”

 

Otabek was helpless to obey, and held Yuri steady so that he could scrub until his skin was pink.  It was brisk and all business, but it was still the most Otabek had ever touched Yuri.  His skin was soft, but the muscles tensed beneath it were lean and strong.  There was no fat on him except at the surprising swell of his ass.  Behind Yuri’s left ear he found a small freckle.  Strangely, he imagined himself kissing it before pushing the errant thought away.

 

When Otabek began washing Yuri’s hair, his knees nearly buckled again.  Otabek thought for a moment he was going to step into the shower with his shoes still on just to keep Yuri from falling.  Yuri’s hand braced against the tile to force himself to stay upright at the last minute, and Otabek had time to rinse the shampoo out of Yuri’s hair, quickly slather conditioner in it, and then rinse him again.

 

By the time he helped Yuri step out onto the bathmat, his eyes were closed and he seemed asleep on his feet.  Otabek wrapped him in a large, fluffy towel and gently buffed him dry.  Yuri usually wore pajamas to bed, but Otabek had no idea where they were, so he scooped Yuri into his arms in just the towel and carried him to the bed.  Yuri stirred when Otabek laid him down, his eyes fluttering open.  He tensed and curled in on himself.

 

“No more,” he whispered weakly.

 

“Yuri?  No more what?”  Otabek brushed damp strands of hair from Yuri’s eyes.  Yuri didn’t reply.  “I’m just putting you into bed.”

 

“Not here.”

 

“Not here?  Where then?”  For a moment, Otabek thought Yuri wanted to sleep in his room.  The idea of Yuri sharing his bed wasn’t an unwelcome one, but he wasn’t sure that was what Yuri would want, especially considering the night he’d had.

 

“My room.”

 

“Sweetheart, we’re in your room.”

 

“No.” Yuri tried to push himself up and nearly tipped off the bed.  Instead of letting him fall, Otabek picked him up again.

 

“Just tell me where you want to go, okay?”

 

Yuri nodded, then lifted an arm that looked like it weighed a hundred pounds and pointed to the bathroom.  Once there, Yuri pointed again, this time at the closet door.  Otabek didn’t argue.  He just carried Yuri over and opened the door.

 

It was not a closet.  Inside was a small bedroom, smaller even than Otabek’s.  There was a twin bed with a quilt on it that looked hand made, a nightstand littered with knick knacks and pictures, and a trunk at the foot of the bed.  Otabek was stunned.  He felt as though he’d just stumbled into something sacred.  Something so intimate he shouldn’t be looking at it.  He laid Yuri on the bed and pulled the quilt up over him.  As Yuri snuggled the pillow, Otabek caught a rush of Yuri’s scent.  Not just the laundry detergent and chemical smell that clung to the big bed in the other room, but the real smell a person leaves on a place that's well loved.  It was warm and sweet and made Otabek’s chest tight.  He tucked the quilt around Yuri’s shoulders, brushed the quickly drying hair out of his eyes again, and then thoughtlessly pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.  Yuri smiled in his sleep, murmured something too soft for Otabek to hear, then snuggled deeper into the covers.

 

Despite the curiosity nagging at him, Otabek very purposely didn’t look more closely at any of the pictures or personal items.  They felt intensely private, and Yuri was not a man who was allowed much privacy in his life.  Otabek wanted to respect it as much as he could.  Instead, he backed out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

  
In his own bed, after he’d started the wash, he thought about the kind of man who had sex in a huge, plush bed, but slept in a small, plain one.  A man who offered to fuck his bodyguard the first day he met him, but looked ashamed of having sex with three people at once.  A man who looked as fragile as glass but forced himself to be as tough as steel.  A man who confused and aroused Otabek more than anyone ever had before.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, everyone! I love each and every one!

Yuri stirred honey into his tea and watched it absorb into the liquid slowly.  “Last night,” he began, not raising his eyes, “that was…”  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “You didn’t have to- I mean, you even had every opportunity to-”

 

“You’re welcome,” Otabek said softly.  Yuri flushed to the roots of his hair and nodded.

 

“You know, that wasn’t what I expected.  With Tucker.”

 

“I gathered that much.”

 

“And I didn’t… it’s just, with you there, at least I had a choice.  And I’m grateful for that.”

 

Otabek put down his fork and leaned forward, wondering if perhaps there was even deeper meaning to Yuri’s words.  If he’d made a mistake in letting Yuri go with those three the night before.  “Yuri… did you  _ want _ to service all three of them?”  Yuri hesitated, and Otabek cursed himself a fool.  He should have known, the moment he’d seen that look in Yuri’s eyes, that something wasn’t right.  “Fuck!  I should have-”

 

“No!  Otabek, no.”  Yuri put down his cup and sat on the chair next to Otabek.  “Didn’t you hear me before?  I had a choice.  I made it.  It was… easier, to go along with them.  More work in the long run,” he scoffed.

 

“Easier?  Yuri, I could have gotten us out of there if you’d wanted.  I could have knocked all three of them out flat in under a  minute.  All you would have had to do was  _ say _ -”

 

“And then I would have lost my pay for that night as well as a long term client.”  Yuri shook his head.  “It was the right call.  It was exhausting, but it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve done.  Not by a long shot.”

 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Otabek growled.

 

“It doesn’t need to.  The point is that I’m glad you were there.  For that, and for… after.”  He paused, his blush returning, but fainter this time.  “It seems we’re adding ‘aftercare specialist’ to your duties.  I really am going to have to start paying you more.”

 

“I think a nice Christmas bonus ought to cover it.”

 

“That’s past our three month period,” Yuri pointed out hesitantly.  He’d already asked more from Otabek than any bodyguard would normally provide.  It was becoming more and more doubtful every day that Otabek would choose to renew the contract.

 

“So it is.”  Otabek didn’t say anything else, and Yuri felt a small surge of hope.  Perhaps he would stay on, after all.

 

Otabek had never been happier to see cat ears on a grown man than he was that evening.  It meant the return of the cat guy and a night of relative ease for Yuri.  Otabek would still have preferred that Yuri have the whole night off after his exhausting ordeal the day before, but at least this wouldn’t be nearly as hard on him.  The cat guy would touch him softly, stroke his skin and pet his hair.  

 

It sent a slight pang of jealousy through Otabek.  He thought of how Yuri had leaned into his touch the night before.  Of how soft he’d felt, how beautiful he was with all the artifice stripped away.  With the cruel weight of reality, Otabek forced himself to squash the jealousy.  Thinking like that would lead him into dangerous water.  He had no business being jealous of Yuri’s clients.  They paid for the right to touch him, to fuck him, to dress him up or beat him or whatever else they wanted.  Otabek played no part in that equation except to step in if things got out of hand.  He needed to remember that.

 

The front door closed just over an hour later, and Otabek went back to the living room to see if Yuri would come out again.  It was early enough that he might, and they would talk.  Yuri seemed different in the quiet of the living room at night, after his work was done and he’d washed himself clean.  More open, more genial, even, if the client had been an easy one.

 

“Hey,” Yuri said softly as he came out of the bedroom.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Did my meowing keep you up?”

 

Otabek scoffed.  “If you had been meowing, it probably would have.”  Yuri settled onto the opposite end of the couch and tucked his legs up to his chest.

 

“I guess it’s a good thing I was purring instead, then.”

 

“Is that what that sound was?  I thought it was an old man grunting and wheezing.”

 

Yuri laughed and threw a pillow at Otabek.  “He’s not  _ that _ old!”  Otabek just shrugged, a smirk twisting his lips.  “And give me that pillow back.”  Yuri reached for it, but Otabek lifted it away.

 

“What, so you can throw it at me again?  I don’t think so.”

 

“No, so I can lay on it, fuckhead.  I’m going to watch a movie.”

 

“Oh.”  Otabek was so surprised he let Yuri snatch the pillow back.  Somehow he hadn’t ever pictured Yuri watching television, despite the fact that there was a decent sized one in the corner.  “Do you want me to go, then?”

 

“Depends,” Yuri said, grabbing the remote and pushing buttons.

 

“On?”

 

“Do you like  _ Die Hard _ ?”

 

Otabek grinned.

 

Yuri had tossed the pillow towards Otabek and stretched out across the couch.  They both shifted around as the movie went on, getting more comfortable.  Yuri’s pillow ended up on Otabek’s thigh, with his hair spread across Otabek’s lap.  Otabek ran his fingers idly through the long strands, his thumb occasionally brushing the shell of Yuri’s ear.  It felt… nice.  Normal, despite the fact that there was nothing normal about their professional or personal relationship.  For a moment, Otabek could imagine that this was an average night for them.  That they would go to the same bed when the movie was over.

  
But when the credits rolled, the little fantasy came to an end.  Yuri flushed a little when he realized how close they’d gotten on the couch, then mumbled a goodnight and went off to bed by himself.  Otabek went to his own room reminding himself again that it was foolish to feel anything more than work related concern for his beautiful employer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am blown away by the reception the last chapter got. All the lovely comments spurred me to get this one edited and posted double time.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it, and please please make note of the rating... this chapter is dark.

The next night, Yuri surprised Otabek by asking him to stay out of sight when his client came.  At first, Otabek didn’t question it, but then he remembered who the last client was that Yuri had made that request for.

 

“Alex?” he asked, teeth clenched.  Yuri nodded.

 

“I’ll ask him not to leave me tied up again.  Or at least charge him extra if he does, and split it with you for the extra work.”

 

Otabek gaped at him.  “You think  _ that’s _ what I’m worried about?”

 

“You shouldn’t be  _ worried _ about anything.  He’s not a monster, despite how he came across last time.  He’s got extreme taste, but that doesn’t make him evil.  And he’s my best paying regular.  Half my retirement fund has come from him.”  Yuri sounded so defensive that Otabek didn’t know what to say.  He couldn’t see Alex as anything but a bastard, but he also couldn’t condemn Yuri for servicing him.  It wasn’t his place.  Instead of saying anything, he went to his room and shut the door.

 

It was hours later before Otabek heard the front door open.  He set aside the book he’d been reading and against his better judgement found himself straining to hear.  There was a low murmur of voices, a muted laugh, then the sound of the bedroom door closing.

 

The minutes seemed to tick on endlessly as Otabek waited for the scene to be over.  He wondered if Alex would simply pay the extra to leave Yuri cuffed helpless on the floor when he was done.  Would he hit Yuri again?  Choke him?  The terrible possibilities were far too numerous.

 

There was a sharp crack, followed by a muffled groan.  Tension coiled in Otabek’s belly.  Voices, too soft to be understood, then another crack.  A single voice this time, low but urgent.  Another crack, a bit-off cry of pain.  A chill went up Otabek’s spine.  Suddenly, the words were clear and panicked. “Don’t!  I said stop!”  There was another crack, then a shrill scream.  The receiver Otabek had been clutching buzzed and flashed red.

 

Otabek moved faster than he ever had in his life.  The hall was a blur, the latch on the door snapped like a dry leaf, and in a single leap Otabek had put himself between Yuri and Alex.  Yuri was on his knees in the middle of the room, his arms bound behind him at wrist and elbow.  There were bloody welts across his chest, thighs, and back.  Alex was holding a whip and a remote.  It took a split second to see that Yuri’s life wasn’t in immediate danger.  Another fraction of that second was spent disarming Alex and slamming him against the wall.  Alex’s head snapped back with a loud crack and he grinned.  Otabek snarled and pulled his fist back, prepared to knock him out and wipe the fucking grin off his face at the same time.

 

“Otabek!”  Yuri’s voice hitched on a sob.  Otabek stilled, turning back to see Yuri’s face still contorted in pain.  “Just get him  _ out _ .”

 

Alex was still dressed.  He hadn’t even taken off his shoes.  Instead of smashing his face in as Otabek so dearly wanted, he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and drug him to the door.  Alex didn’t put up a fight.  “Tell Yuri to bill me for the bloodshed,” he sneered.  Otabek threw him bodily out of the loft, then sprinted back to Yuri.

 

There were so many things that needed done that Otabek didn’t know where to start.  He hesitated, wasting seconds while Yuri whimpered in pain.  “That d-dial,” he bit out, his entire body trembling.  “T-turn it  _ off _ .”  Otabek snatched up the small remote and smashed the power button.  There was a soft hissing sound, and Yuri let out a relieved breath.  Otabek unbuckled his arms next, eyeing the string wound tightly around Yuri’s penis and testicles warily.  It was knotted.  Was there some trick to undoing it, or would Otabek have to cut it off?

 

Yuri’s arms flopped forward bonelessly.  The way they had been bent, Otabek wouldn’t have been surprised if they had gone numb.  Yuri tried to reach for the string, but his hands wouldn’t cooperate.

 

“I’ll do it,” Otabek told him gently.  “Just tell me how.”

 

“Just cut it off.  It h-hurts so-”

 

“Alright, I’ll get it off.  Stay still for me, okay sweetheart?”  Otabek didn’t wait for Yuri to nod.  He pulled his pocket knife out and tried to ignore the way Yuri flinched at the sight of the blade.  With as gentle a touch as he was capable, Otabek slipped the tip of the blade under the top layer of string and cut it, careful not to nick the angry red, swollen skin beneath.  Once that one piece was loose, Otabek unwound the rest.  Yuri let out a soft cry as blood rushed painfully back to his groin.  “It’s alright,” Otabek heard himself saying as he caught Yuri against his chest.  “The pain means there’s not permanent damage.  It’ll ease soon, I promise.”  He ran his hands softly over Yuri, looking for anything he might have missed.  “Tell me what else you need, sweetheart.  What can I do?”

 

“Pull that-”  Yuri made a graceless motion between his legs, and Otabek realized that whatever the remote had been running was still inside him.  “Get it out.”  Otabek reached down and found the flared base of it.  He tugged lightly and Yuri gasped, burying his face into Otabek’s neck.  Otabek gritted his teeth and tugged again.  This time, it came free.  The inflatable phallus was streaked with blood, and more of it began to trickle down Yuri’s inner thighs.  Otabek only let himself curse in his head.  Externally, he remained calm and kept his voice even.

 

“Yuri, we need to get you to the hospital, okay?”  He looked around for something to cover Yuri with, the robe, a blanket, anything-

 

“No.”

 

“Sweetheart, I think you’re really hurt.  There could be internal damage.  You need to see a doctor.”

 

“I’m- fine.”  Yuri clung to Otabek’s neck tighter.

 

“No, you’re not.”  Otabek let a little bit of steel seep into his tone.  “You’re bleeding.  You need medical attention.”

 

“I can do it.  I’ve done-”  Yuri stopped when he felt Otabek tense.   _ I’ve done it before _ .  That’s what he’d been about to say.  The thought made Otabek feel sick.  “Just give me… I just need a minute.  Please.”

 

Otabek didn’t know what to do.  He wanted to get Yuri to the hospital to have a professional look him over.  He wanted to tear Alex’s throat out.  He wanted to do whatever Yuri asked of him, so that for once, someone respected his wishes.  He wanted to take Yuri’s every hurt into himself so that Yuri wasn’t in any more pain.  Feeling impotent and useless, Otabek looked Yuri over once more.  His penis had faded from maroon to a bright pink, which was a good sign.  The bleeding between his legs seemed to have stopped as well.  Still, the fact that there was any at all made Otabek nervous.  Yuri could have a tear in his rectum, or a fissure that needed stitches-

 

“Will you get the first aid kit for me?”  Yuri managed to unwind his arms from Otabek’s neck.  He looked like he wanted to shift back, but there was no way to do it without making the pain worse.  His legs wouldn't hold him, and sitting would be agony.  Carefully, Otabek lifted Yuri into his arms and laid him on his side on the bed.  

 

In the bathroom cupboard, he found a well stocked first aid kit.  He brought it to Yuri, who tried to take it himself, but Otabek wouldn’t let him.  “I’ll do it,” he offered.  “You can hardly see down there, and your hands are still shaking too badly.”  Yuri hesitated, then gave his agreement in the form of telling Otabek how to clean the assortment of small tears he found on Yuri’s delicate skin, and what ointment to apply to them.  After putting a thin gauze dressing over it, Otabek moved to the welts littered across Yuri’s torso.

 

Already, they were turning an ugly purple color.  Otabek daubed antibiotic cream on the broken skin and a bruise paste on the ones that hadn’t bled.  By the time he was finished, Yuri was covered with clean white bandages.  He wanted a drink, and he wanted out of the bedroom.  If Otabek hadn’t carried him, he would have tried to walk, and they both knew how that would have ended.  Instead, Otabek carried Yuri out to the couch and let him stretch out on his side.  From the cupboard, he got down a bottle of raspberry vodka.

 

Yuri took two straight shots of it, then had Otabek mix a third one in with a glass of orange juice for him, complete with bendy straw so he could sip it while laying down.  Otabek felt like having a drink himself, but refrained.  He needed to be clear-headed in case Yuri’s condition changed.

 

They had operated on autopilot for long enough that the silence between them suddenly became oppressive.  Otabek sat on the couch by Yuri’s head, twisting slightly to accommodate him as Yuri shifted up and laid his head in Otabek’s lap.  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Otabek finally asked.  There was a long pause, then Yuri shrugged.

 

“He went too far.”

 

“He hadn’t even undressed, Yuri.  This seemed deliberate.  Like punishment.”

 

“Maybe it was.”

 

“You could go to the police with this.  It was premeditated assault.  They could-”

 

“No, they couldn’t.”

 

“Yuri-”

 

“I tried once, okay?  Not with him, but a different client, a few years ago.  They practically laughed at me.  We had an agreement for my services, it was just my word against his that it went too far, and no one was going to take my side.”

 

“You have a witness this time.  You have  _ me _ .”

 

“Just- just drop it, Otabek.  Please.  I don’t want to think about it any more.”  Yuri let out such an exhausted breath that Otabek reluctantly agreed.

  
“Alright.  For now.”  He began running his fingers through Yuri’s hair, fighting little bursts of emotion every time Yuri leaned into the soft touch.  Eventually, they both fell asleep like that, curled together on the couch.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, I can't tell you how much all your comments mean to me. Thank you!!!

Otabek woke up stiff.  In more ways than one.  He could sleep almost anywhere or even go without sleep at all for long stretches if needed, but that didn’t mean that his body didn’t protest a night on the couch.  He’d pulled the lever that reclined the back of the couch at some point, so he at least didn’t have a crick in his neck, but he was still vaguely sore and could already tell his back would sound like dry kindling hitting flame as soon as he stood up.  The other stiffness was one he was familiar with in the morning no matter where he slept.  Usually, thought, it wasn’t quite this…. squashed, if he slept on his back.

 

That was when he realized Yuri was practically using his cock as a pillow.  The appendage twitched in appreciation at the proximity of his mouth.  Otabek took slow, steady breaths and thought about very mundane things until the pressure in his cock began to ease.

 

Yuri had started the night with his head propped against Otabek’s thigh.  Apparently, though, at some point after Otabek had laid further back and more lap had been made available, Yuri had migrated into the empty space.  His arm was curled around Otabek’s waist, and his face was nestled in Otaek’s groin.  It actually looked quite comfortable if not for the still semi-hard cock poking him in the cheek.  Still, Yuri didn’t seem to mind.  He slept on, occasionally making little hums of pleasure that made Otabek’s heart beat faster.

 

The dilemma now was if he ought to try and slip away while Yuri was sleeping and risk waking him, or stay where he was and face Yuri’s reaction to waking up with his face planted between Otabek’s thighs.  He was still debating when Yuri began to stir.  A grimace crossed his features, and at first Otabek thought it was from his position, but then he realized that as Yuri shifted, the pain of his injuries was coming back.  A moment later his eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Otabek.

 

“Hello,” he whispered, voice still rough from sleep.

 

“Morning.”

 

There was a somewhat awkward pause, and then Yuri asked, “Do you like cartoons?”

 

“What?”

 

“Cartoons, you know.  Like, Saturday morning cartoons.  It’s not Saturday, but there’s a channel that plays reruns of old cartoons all day.”

 

“Uh, yeah.  Yeah, I do.”

 

Yuri hummed and reached for the remote.  As soon as he shifted forward, he winced in pain.  Otabek sat up and tried to reach past him.  “Here, I can do that.”

 

“No, it’s fine.  I’m fine.”  Yuri grabbed the remote and then shuffled around until he was comfortable again, facing the TV.  He didn’t wince again, or gasp or even grimace, but Otabek knew that didn’t mean that he wasn’t feeling any pain.  It just meant he was hiding it better.

 

The television blinked on, and Yuri switched to the cartoon channel.  Surprisingly, there was a show on that they’d both liked as kids.  They watched as if they were ten year olds savoring the freedom of a day without school.  At one point Otabek got up to get them bowls of sugar cereal.  Yuri had pointed out that the entire back of the couch reclined, and then they both stretched across it side by side.  For a few hours, they forgot the terrible events of the night before.  They forgot their jobs and everything else.  They were just Yuri and Otabek, laughing at dumb jokes and pretending to be kids again.

 

It couldn’t last forever, though.  Yuri needed to use the bathroom, and Otabek’s back wouldn’t bear another moment on the couch without proper stretching.  He helped Yuri stand, then watched him disappear into the bedroom before quickly going through a series of yoga stretches that made his entire body creak like a rusty steam engine.  That finished, he used his own bathroom and then waited for Yuri to return.

 

It took a worryingly long time, but when Yuri came back out, he was changed and his hair pulled back.

 

“We should probably redress your bandages,” Otabek told him softly.

 

“I already did all of them except the ones on my back.”  He held out the ointment and gauze, looking hesitant.

 

“Yuri-”

 

“I know it’s your day off, but if you would just redo those ones before you go, I’d be grateful.”

 

Otabek took the supplies from Yuri’s hands, his eyes soft with concern.  “Yuri, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“But it’s-”

 

“So I’ll do a little overtime.  It’s not a big deal.”  He saw Yuri’s face pinch slightly, and he chuckled.  “And no, I”m not going to bill you for time and a half.”

 

“Are you always this cheap?”  His body was still tense with hesitation, but at least there was humor back in his voice.

 

“Comes with the job,” Otabek shrugged.  He urged Yuri gently forward until he was kneeling between Otabek’s legs, then pulled his shirt up and began to work.  “My last job, I worked a lot of overtime for.  You joke about all the freebies I give you, but I was a one stop shop for anything and everything on that one.”  He talked to keep Yuri distracted from his exposed skin and the pain of the gauze coming away from the wounds, not really thinking about what he was saying.  “Jacob was such a rambunctious kid.  He got into everything, especially things he wasn’t supposed to.  He really liked exploring, and sometimes he would go on hikes for hours.  When he came back his feet would just be a mess, and I’d rub the soreness out of them and bandage them up for him.”

 

“It sounds like you two were close.  I didn’t know you worked with kids.”

 

“I- I don’t.”  Otabek felt a throb of pain in his chest.  He pushed the memories away.  Yuri looked up at him, confused, but didn’t press when Otabek didn’t elaborate.  “Are you hungry?  Why don’t we order take away?”

 

Yuri agreed, and they ate Chinese camped out on the couch.  They watched the crap shows Otabek would’ve watched at home, complained about bad plots and worse acting, then did it all over again on the next episode.  Over the course of the afternoon they shifted around on the couch, usually ending up with Otabek stretched out and Yuri draped over him.  It was as if some invisible line had been crossed the night before, and suddenly Yuri had become incredibly tactile.  Otabek had been running his finger through Yuri’s hair at one point and paused, and Yuri had nudged at his hand until he started again.  Otabek thought back to Yuri telling him that he had been called feline before, and had to laugh at how apt that now seemed.

 

They reheated leftovers for dinner and Yuri put  _ Die Hard _ back on, but neither of them were watching it.  Otabek was propped up against the arm of the couch and Yuri was facing him, using Otabek’s bent knee as a back rest.

 

“Do you have any family?” Yuri asked softly.  Otabek nodded, not surprised by the question or reluctant to talk about it.

 

“My dad and my sister.  Mom died when I was a teenager.”

 

“Are you close?”

 

“As much as you can be from another continent.  My sister married a foreign guy and they live in his hometown.  Dad followed a few years later when he realized Kilas was going to start having grandbabies for him long before I ever would.”

 

“That must have sucked.”

 

“Not really,” Otabek shrugged and smiled a little.  “I love them both, so it’s not like I could be angry with them.  We still talk, and I try to visit them when I can.  I’m glad they’re happy.”

 

“You’re a bigger man than I am, then,” Yuri admitted.  Otabek snorted a laugh and Yuri scowled at him.  “I don’t mean  _ literally _ you boohemoth.”

 

“I knew what you meant,” Otabek said, still chuckling.

 

“My mom, she took off when I was a kid and had a family with another guy.  I’ve got half brothers somewhere, but I don’t want to ever see them or anything.  She chose them over me.”

 

“I can understand why you resent her.  She abandoned you.  My family leaving was totally different.  I was an adult.  They would have even been happy for me to have gone with them, if I’d wanted.”  Otabek waited a moment to see if Yuri would say anything more, but was met with silence.  “You said before that you weren’t close to your dad…?”

 

“I fucking hated him.”

 

“Your mom leaving didn’t bring you two closer?”

 

“Fuck no.  He didn’t want me to begin with, so being stuck with me as a kid only pissed him off, and he had no problem showing it.  I took off as soon as I could get by on my own.”

 

“Is that way you started… being an escort?”

 

“You mean whoring”  Yuri laughed dryly.  “Not really.  I started young, but not quite that young.  I stayed on the streets for a while.  It’s amazing how well you can get by living on the shit rich people throw out.  I guess I was fifteen or sixteen the first time I took a customer.  Kind of happened by accident.  At least, that’s not what I intended to do at first.  I was digging through a dumpster behind this really ritzy high rise downtown and some guy who lived there caught me.  He started yelling at me to shove off or he was gonna call the cops, but then he got this really weird look on his face and stopped.  Apparently I looked just like his dead girlfriend.  Not what every teenage boy wants to hear, but then he offered me five hundred bucks to spend the night with him.

 

Doesn’t sound like much now, but at the time, five hundred was a fortune.  Seemed like a lot of money just to put on a dress and let him stick it in.  He wasn’t even rough with me.  Just fucked me and cried.  In the morning I was five hundred bucks richer and set on the path to an illustrious career.”

 

“You never thought about doing anything else?”

 

Yuri scoffed.  “Like what?  I didn’t finish high school and I’m not smart enough to try and learn a trade.  Should I give up all this to earn scraps working some dead end job as a busboy or cashier?  I might as well be living on the streets again.”

 

“You could go back to school.  Take some college classes.  Find a career that suits you.”

 

“And what happens when I get to class and realize I’ve given the professor a foot job?  Or I’ve let the Dean tie me up and call me his son’s name while he fucked me?  And what happens when I fail a class because I’m too stupid to keep up, and I get offered a trade- a blowjob for an A?  Am I supposed to turn it down?”  Yuri shook his head.  “It would never work.”

 

“Or, you could go to school somewhere where the staff isn’t full of sleazeballs and deviants, get an education that you are plenty smart enough to earn on your own, and find a job that you actually  _ like _ .”

 

“Who says I don’t like this?” Yuri demanded haughtily.  Otabek stopped making the idle circles he’d been tracing on Yuri’s calf.

 

“Do you?”

 

Yuri shrugged.  “Sometimes the money is easy.  And I have enough to live on comfortably.”

 

“Is this what you call comfortably?”  Otabek gestured to the edge of a bandage showing beneath the collar of Yuri’s shirt.  Yuri tugged the collar higher to try and hide it.  “How many other times have things like this happened?  How many times have you had to try and handle them on your own?”

 

“Not that-”

 

“It was often enough for you to be willing to hire me, despite the cost.”

 

“What about you, then?” Yuri demanded.  “Why don’t you switch to some cushy job behind a desk where there’s no risk of you getting hurt?  Isn’t that what everyone said you should do after you fucked up your hand?”

 

“Yeah, it is.  But I stuck with this because it’s what I  _ want _ to do.  This is my-”  It seemed foolish to call it his ‘calling.’  Yuri was staring at him, waiting.  What could he say that didn’t sound so cliched that Yuri would believe it?  “Protecting people is what I do, whether I’m getting paid for it or not.  It’s not just a career to me.  I like helping, making people feel safe.  Do you even like  _ sex _ ?”

 

“I don’t-”  Yuri stopped, his face twisted with confusion.  “I don’t know,” he whispered.

 

Otabek’s heart sank.  Yuri looked so small and so uncertain.  Had he ever had sex that wasn’t with a client?  Otabek suddenly doubted it very much.  The idea was terrible to him.  Yuri got no real connection with his clients.  No intimacy or closeness or pleasure.  He had no idea that it was supposed to be something  _ shared _ , not taken.

 

The idea rose up unbidden that he could show that to Yuri; introduce him to sex as an act of affection, as a way for two people who cared about each other to be close.  But he pushed the thought back.  It would never work.  Despite how frighteningly quickly he’d grown to care for Yuri, Yuri had never given any indication that he liked Otabek beyond as an employee or maybe even a friend.  And that aside, Otabek didn’t think he could handle being intimate with Yuri and then watching him share his body the same way with others. Otabek didn’t consider himself a jealous man - though his time with Yuri had made him question that - but there were limits to what he could handle.  Stepping aside to let strangers abuse his lover wasn’t something he would be able to do.

 

“Maybe,” Otabek murmured softly, “you should find something you  _ do _ like and give it a shot before you consign yourself to half a lifetime of degradation and abuse.  You deserve better.”  He sat up, kissed Yuri’s forehead, and then quietly padded down the hall to bed.

 

***

 

Yuri felt well enough the next day to go to the park.  It was a beautiful day, with the first hint of an autumn breeze in the air.  Otabek kept his eyes open for Yuri’s ‘admirer’ as they walked the few blocks to the park, but so far he hadn’t seen even a hint of the man.  Yuri stretched out on the grass and basked in the sun.  Otabek watched the light make his hair positively shine.  The fact that Yuri could face everything he’d faced and still laugh as he watched squirrels chase each other was amazing to Otabek.  He thought of how easy it would have been for Yuri to become bitter and spiteful.  He was hard and crass, yes, but there was no malice in him.  No vindictiveness. 

 

After they left the park, they walked to an ice cream shop down the road.  Yuri got the biggest cone they had, and Otabek teased him the entire time he was eating, watching quickly melting ice cream drip down Yuri’s face and hands.  It took half a dozen napkins to clean him up when he finally abandoned the cone, and there were  _ still _ caramel spots on the back of Yuri’s hands.  He was trying to rub them off when suddenly Otabek slung his arm casually around Yuri’s shoulders.  Yuri tensed for a moment, then settled into the embrace.  A shy smile flirted with the corners of his lips.

 

“Otabek?”

 

“Let’s turn here,” Otabek directed, taking them down a street the opposite direction of the loft.  He leaned down as they walked and nuzzled Yuri’s ear.  “Keep looking either forward, or at me, okay?”

 

“What’s going on?”  Alarm began spiking through Yuri, and he fought the urge to look behind them.

 

“I think someone is following us.  I noticed a guy with a camera in the park, and saw him again when we left the ice cream shop.  Let’s just keep going and see how far he goes, okay?”  He again nuzzled Yuri’s ear, making the whispered conversation look like a caress.  Yuri nodded, his chest tight.

 

“What if he confronts us?”

 

“I actually hope he does,” Otabek admitted.  Yuri tensed in alarm and Otabek rubbed comforting circles low on his back.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Do you really think I can’t handle this creep?”

 

“What if he’s got a gun or something?  You’re not armed- you can’t shoot!”

 

“This guy doesn’t look like spy material, and even if he was armed - and I don’t think he is - I’m still faster.  I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

 

“I’m worried about  _ you _ , you idiot!  If this guy is obsessed with me, how do you think he’d going to react to seeing you act like my boyfriend?”

 

Otabek chuckled, and Yuri clenched his hands into fists.  “You may be good, but you’re still human, Otabek!  You could get hurt.  It happened before; it could happen again.  I don’t want-”  He stopped, realizing he’d said too much.  “Forget it.”

 

“Yuri-”

 

“Don’t.  Just forget it, okay?  I’m going home.”  He shrugged off Otabek’s arm and turned up the next road toward the loft.  Otabek watched him for a moment, still shocked, then hurried to catch up to him.  Conscious of their audience, he took Yuri’s hand and kissed the back of it.

 

“I appreciate your concern, Yuri, I really do.  I think maybe there are a few things I should clear up when we get back.  But in the meantime, stay by me, okay?”

 

Yuri looked conflicted, but didn’t pull his hand away.  He let Otabek hold it the whole way home, and even up the stairs to the loft despite the fact that they weren’t being watched any longer.  His concern and anger had dissolved when they stepped into the safety of the loft, and he was curious about what Otabek planned to tell him.

 

His thoughts were cut short at the sight of a manilla envelope on the floor.  It had obviously been shoved under the door, and the crudely scribbled  _ whore _ on the back told Yuri that it was from his stalker.  He picked it up with shaking fingers, all his fear from earlier rushing back.

 

“Yuri?  What’s that?”

 

For one strained moment, Yuri felt the urge to hide it.  He suddenly didn’t want Otabek to see the ugly words that would be written inside.  It was ridiculous, though.  Most of them were true, and Otabek had seen that first hand.  He opened the envelope and tipped it down so that a letter and three pictures fell out into his hand.

 

“It’s from him,” Yuri said in a flat voice, his eyes skimming the letter.

 

“Son of a bitch.”  The first thing Otabek saw were the pictures.  Two of them were from their visit to the park the week before, Yuri sitting in the grass eating the red snow cone.  The third was grainy and dark.  It looked like a screenshot of a video.  Yuri, looking achingly young, was sandwiched between two men.  The camera was looking down at him as he sucked the man off and the second fucked him.  

 

The letter Yuri was reading fluttered to the floor and he snatched the pictures from Otabek’s hands.  “Fuck!  Jesus fucking Christ!”  He began to shred the pictures with shaking fingers, and Otabek let him.  While Yuri tore the photos to smaller and smaller bits, Otabek picked up the letter.

 

_ Think you’re too good for me now, slut? _

_ I remember when you were nothing but a street whore who’d suck and fuck anything for a dime.   And I’ve got videos of it, too. _

_ I’ve jacked off a hundred times watching you spread your slutty legs, and sometime soon, I’m going to see it again in person. _

_ I bet your ass is just as tight as it was then.  You were made for taking cock, little bitch. _

 

Otabek fought the urge to crumble it up.  He needed to check it over for fingerprints or other information.  Despite the crudeness of the letter, and the frankly alarming fact that it had been slipped under the door, he still didn’t think that the person writing it was brave enough to resort to physical violence yet - especially with Otabek there.  Even still, he wanted to keep the evidence of his threats, just in case.  At this point, he didn’t think he could be too cautious.

 

“Do you know how he got into the building?” Otabek asked, stilling Yuri’s fingers as he continued to shred the pictures.

 

“The back door has a keypad to get in.  The passcode hasn’t changed in years.  If this fucker was a client of mine while I lived here, he probably got it then.”

 

“It seems that he was a client at some point, at least.”

 

“You mean because he’s got a porno of me?  Yeah, I gathered that much.”

 

“Yuri-”

 

“I don’t do shit like that any more.  I thought I’d bought back all the videos.  I was still dirt poor and needed the money, and I didn’t think-”

 

“Yuri!”  Otabek’s raised voice finally stopped Yuri’s rant.  His cheeks were mottled, but whether from anger or shame, Otabek couldn’t tell.  “I meant because he knew which door to put the envelope under, not because of the picture.  If there are videos, he might have bought it from someone or even stolen it.  And I’m not judging you for what you’ve done in your past.  There’s no sense in dwelling on it.  We just need to focus on what we can do now.”  He took Yuri gently by the shoulders and paused to make sure his words sunk in.  After a moment, Yuri nodded.  “I don’t like the fact that he can get into the building so easily.  I’m going to call your building manager to have that passcode changed and install new locks on the door and windows.  Make sure you’re wearing your panic button at all times except in the shower.  I honestly think all this is precautionary, but for now at least, I’d rather we play it safe.”

 

“Okay,” Yuri agreed, his voice a little unsteady.  He made himself a cup of tea mechanically and sat down in the living room, staring at the wall blankly.

 

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” Otabek assured him, sitting beside him on the couch.  Yuri nodded, his face taking on the brave facade that he wore so often.

 

“Of course it is.  I’m not afraid of that asshole.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Otabek agreed with the lie.  “And you have even extra reason not to be, with me here.”  He let out a slow breath, readying himself for reliving still painful memories.  “I think it’s time I told you about Jacob.”

 

“Jacob… was that your last client?  The one you got hurt protecting?”

 

“Yes… and no.  Jacob wasn’t who I was protecting.  His mother was actually my assignment.  His father is a movie star, and had an entire team of bodyguards that travelled with him anywhere he went.  Most of the over-zealous fans that were a concern had to go through them.  He kept his family very private.  They didn’t attend any public functions with him, and lived in a separate house from the one that the paparazzi knew about.  He didn’t think they were in any danger.  Still, he loved them and wanted them to be safe, so he hired a bodyguard for his wife, and another for his son.

 

Sheila had some… inclinations that were troublesome.  Her husband knew about her wandering eye, so he also knew that he either needed to resign himself to knowing she was sleeping with the bodyguard, or hire one who couldn’t be seduced.”

 

“And your reputation got you the job.”

 

“It did.  I think he might have asked me to guard Sheila and Jacob both, but he knew I didn’t work with kids.  So he hired a second man.”

 

“Why don’t you work with kids?”

 

“I’m not… It’s a flaw, one that makes a job like mine very difficult.  I get attached.  I bond with people, and it can make moving on incredibly painful.  With adults, I learned to deal with it.  It’s easier to break the ties.  With kids…  I can’t put myself through that over and over again.  Unfortunately, just being in the same house with Jacob was enough to become attached.  Sheila was easy to manage once she realized I wouldn't sleep with her.  And Jacob’s bodyguard was a worthless peice of trash.  He was a lazy and arrogant and sloppy at his job.  Several times, I tried to bring it up, but he’d been recommended by a friend, and his position was very secure.

 

Jacob could see what his parents couldn’t.  If he had a problem, he came to me.  If he was scared, he came to me.  He grew to care about me as much as I cared about him, and in the end, it almost got him killed.

 

There was a crazy fan group that had become obsessed with his dad.  Despite all the precautions that had been taken, they found out about Jacob and Sheila, and in their twisted minds decided that they needed to eliminate their competition.  They weren’t professional hitmen.  Most of them weren’t even athletic.  But they were crazed and willing to kill to get what they wanted.  One of them had done something with a computer to bypass the house’s security system.  Half a dozen of them broke in, four with guns and the other two with knives.  Even still, they should have been easy for two trained bodyguards to take out.”

 

“But there weren’t two of you there, were there?”

 

“No.  Aaron, Jacob’s bodyguard, had snuck out to the garage to fuck the maid.  If one of the attackers hadn’t knocked over a vase in the hall, they might have killed Jacob in his sleep before I even knew anyone was in the house.  There were six of them against one of me, and I had two people to protect at the same time.”

 

“God, it’s a miracle you survived.”

 

“No, it’s not.”  Otabek shook his head.  “I’m not saying this to be arrogant, and I don’t have an inflated ego.  But I am very good, Yuri.  It all happened very quickly.  I had Sheila and Jacob behind me, and disarmed all the attackers with guns.  The rest of them would have dropped just as easily.  But in the darkness, it looked to Jacob like one of the men with a knife was going to get me.  He had nothing to defend himself with, but he still threw himself forward to try and protect me.  My left hand was holding the other attacker down, and there wasn’t any other way for me to stop the blade coming at him.”

 

“You used your bare hand,” Yuri breathed in horror.

 

“Yes.  It sliced through the tendons in three of my fingers and my thumb.  The bleeding had slowed by the time I’d disarmed and secured the last two attackers, but the damage was done.  Doctors can do a lot nowadays, but they aren’t magicians.  There wasn’t any way to repair my hand well enough for me to shoot again.”

 

“Holy fuck.”  Yuri stared at him, shocked and awed.  “Wait, and the dad fired you after that?  What a fucking cunt!  You saved his wife and kid’s lives!”

 

“It wasn’t like that.  I couldn’t work while I was recovering.  He hired a real staff to look after them and moved them out of the country.  How hard it was on both Jacob and I made me realize that it was long past time to move on.  They paid me dispensation for what happened, and we parted ways.”

 

“But that’s not fair!  You did your job!  You did it fucking great, and you’re still practically a pariah among bodyguards!”

 

Otabek shrugged.  “I can’t shoot.  There are very few jobs that don’t require at least some skill with a gun, and it’s something I can’t offer any more.  Fair doesn’t really play into it.  It just is what it is.”

 

“You probably don’t even need the fucking gun!  I doubt you took out six people by blowing their heads off.  Obviously you can do you job with your bare goddamn hands.”

 

“Most of it, yes.  But there are still times when more force is needed in most jobs.  Besides, who wants a cripple bodyguard, no matter how capable he is?”

 

“But that’s-  I mean-”  Yuri’s hands clenched into fists in outrage.  “ _ I _ do!”

 

“I know.” Otabek smiled.  “And I’m grateful for that.  I hadn’t gotten many other respectable offers for full time work before yours came in.  I don’t really need the money, but this is what I do.  This is who I am.  Without it…. I’m lost.  But the point of this wasn’t to make you feel sorry for me or to brag about my abilities.  The point was to make it clear to you in no uncertain terms that you don’t have to worry about my safety.  If there’s a confrontation of any kind, just stay behind me and trust me to handle it.  I can protect you, and I can take care of myself.”  He leaned forward and cupped Yuri’s face gently.  “There’s no reason for you to be afraid, either out there because of the loser who’s sending you dirty notes, or if a client crosses the line.  I can protect you, Yuri.  I can, and I will.  You never have to doubt that.”

 

Yuri swallowed hard and nodded, wondering if he’d ever felt as safe as he did in that moment.  Impulsively, he closed the distance between them and crawled into Otabek’s lap, pressing his cheek against Otabek’s broad, warm chest.  Otabek’s arms automatically went around him.  Yuri wondered why it felt so much like  _ home _ .


	11. Chapter 11

It grated on him to do so, but Yuri took all of the next week off.  He was recovering nicely, but knew better than to push the situation and risk some kind of permanent damage.  Because it was time for his monthly check up anyways, Yuri contacted the doctor he used for STD tests at the clinic and scheduled an appointment for that day.

 

Otabek drove him to the clinic perhaps a little too gladly, but Yuri knew that he was eager to have a medical professional check out Yuri’s injuries and reassure them that everything was healing as it should.  One nearly painless exam later and Yuri was given a clean bill of health, as well as instructions to eat soft foods and abstain from sex for several more days.  He briefly considered rubbing it in to Otabek that the doctor’s opinion was exactly what Yuri’s had been, but he couldn’t bring himself to.  It was hard to mock someone who so genuinely wanted you to be safe and healthy.

 

They spent that afternoon watching more movies on the sofa with it reclined.  Yuri had given up all pretense of personal space and crawled right into Otabek’s lap.  Otabek held him without comment, stroking Yuri’s skin idly and running his fingers through the soft golden strands of his hair.  Every once in a while, Yuri let out little hums of approval. 

 

Yuri fell asleep in the crook of Otabek’s arm, and for a while, Otabek slept too.  When he woke, it was dark and silent in the loft.  Yuri’s face was tucked against his chest and their legs were tangled together.  For a few minutes, Otabek just held him like that, enjoying the feel of Yuri’s slim body pressed against his.  It was easy to pretend again, with them cuddled together, that this was something more.

 

It was almost strange to Otabek that he  _ wanted _ to pretend.  He was attracted to Yuri, yes, but he’d been attracted to clients before and hadn’t felt a single inclination to pursue them or even fantasize about it if they weren’t available.

 

He didn’t have a hard fast rule about not sleeping with people he was protecting, but it had worked out that way simply because of the clients he chose.  He wouldn’t come between marriage vows, and would never take advantage of a situation where someone was helpless.  He’d built a reputation based strongly on his sense of justice and honor, and after that, most of the clients who solicited him did so specifically for that reputation.  They were the vulnerable, the defenseless, those that desperately needed someone they could trust.  Otabek would never have broken that trust by even considering putting one of them in a compromising situation.  It just hadn’t been a option.

 

With Yuri, though, things were different.  Yuri needed to be able to trust that Otabek wouldn’t take advantage when he was tied up or injured, but those times aside, he wasn’t helpless.  He wasn’t a child, and he didn’t owe his fidelity to another.  All the usual reasons Otabek discounted clients as sexual partners didn’t apply.  This time, it was Otabek’s own ideals that held him back from trying to pursue a physical relationship.  Yuri only had sex for a price, and Otabek wouldn’t sleep with someone who didn’t really want it.  Yes, Yuri could give consent.  He could claim that that he wanted the business.  He would probably even make it sound like he was enjoying it.  But the thought of fucking Yuri while he was lying there unaroused, or worse,  _ in pain _ , sickened him.

 

In the fantasies, Yuri wasn’t unaffected by his touch.  He wanted it, needed it,  _ begged _ for it with no hint of artifice or pretense.  He held Otabek because he wanted to, kissed him tenderly, cried out with pleasure at Otabek’s ministrations.  In the fantasy, Yuri cared about him.  Wanted to be with only him.

 

The bubble burst.  Even if Yuri  _ could _ ever grow to care for him that way, he would never be Otabek’s alone.  His  _ job _ was fucking other men, and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to quit.  There was no way around that.

 

With a soft sigh of regret, Otabek lifted Yuri into his arms and carried him to bed.  He tucked the soft quilt around Yuri’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his forehead, all the while telling himself what a fool he was to fall for someone who could never be his.

 

***

 

Otabek hadn’t thought it possible, but they grew even closer over the next week.  Yuri was more relaxed without the loom of clients waiting for him at the end of the day.  He was open and affectionate with Otabek, sharing more of himself that he ever had with anyone.  Yuri still had a sharp tongue and his sarcasm was wickedly barbed, but he was also funny and sweet.  Otabek felt himself falling all the more deeply.

 

One night, they stayed up late drinking and Otabek had foolishly confessed that his nickname growing up had been ‘Beka’, and ever since, Yuri had refused to call him anything else.  Otabek had scoured the internet to find his payback, discovering that the affectionate form of Yuri was  _ Yurachka _ , and took great pleasure in using the endearment to Yuri’s endless consternation.  Eventually, Otabek had shortened it to  _ Yura _ , and the nickname stuck.  He might have relented, even though Yuri swore he never would, if not for the fact that every time Otabek called him Yura, his face softened ever so slightly before he pasted his scowl in place.

 

They did things that Yuri hadn’t done in years, and never just for fun.  Otabek took him to a movie one night, and an ice skating rink another.  They went out to dinner and Yuri didn’t have to duck his head or try and hide.  They went shopping and Yuri bought himself a pair of ice skates because he’d loved skating so much that Otabek had promised to take him again.  He brought his camera to the park and took pictures of the ducks swimming in the pond - and a few of Otabek, too.

 

It was the best week of Yuri’s life.  And with a few small changes, it might have been the best one of Otabek’s, as well.

 

When the days that were meant to be Otabek’s weekend arrived, he didn’t leave.  He stayed with Yuri without question, not because he was being paid to, but because he wanted to. 

 

Monday night they were cuddled together on the couch with books, but Yuri wasn’t reading.  Every few minutes his eyes strayed over to Beka.  He seemed calm, relaxed, content.  It was strange to think that Beka wanted to be in Yuri’s company, not because he was getting sex, not because he was being paid, but because he seemed to  _ like _ Yuri.  He couldn’t remember if anyone had ever just  _ liked _ him before.

 

Looking back at the past week, it had almost felt like they were a couple.  Guilt stirred in his chest when he realized that Otabek was doing all the work a boyfriend would but getting none of the reward.  For the first time, Yuri considered having sex with him.  Not taking him as a client or making an exchange, but just having sex with him freely.  It seemed only fair, after all Beka was doing for him.  He might even like it.  Despite Beka’s size, at least he didn’t have to worry about Otabek hurting him.  The idea left him equal parts confused and aroused.

 

He thought of how turned on he’d been the night Otabek had thrown Ian against the wall.  He’d exaggerated what happened after to torment Beka, but he  _ had _ gotten himself off, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time without being paid to do it.  He thought of how safe he felt in Otabek’s arms, how comfortable.  Maybe he would be able to enjoy sex.  He thought, if it was with Beka, he would be willing to do it even if  _ wasn’t _ all that enjoyable.  It was worth taking the chance, at least.

 

Thinking about the practicalities, Yuri excused himself to the bathroom.  Normally when preparing himself for a client, he had a list of specifications from them about body hair preferences, outfit requests, even sex toys they wanted him to have in or on in advance.  Otabek wasn’t a client, though.  Yuri didn’t know what he would want from a partner, and he had the feeling that Beka would have been offended to be asked to provide a list.  All Yuri could do was give his best guess as to what he thought Beka would like.  He’d gotten pretty damn good at reading people over the years, but Otabek continually surprised him.

 

He cleaned himself thoroughly inside and out, ran a comb through his hair and let it air dry, then picked a small plug to lube and stretch himself.  He looked at the thin piece of blue silicon for a moment, then put it back and picked up the larger black one.  He hadn’t seen Otabek naked, but he thought it was safe to assume that the piping matched the rest of the house.

 

Everything else finished, Yuri sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at his cock.  It was a very nice one, he thought - in proportion to the rest of his size, politely unobtrusive, only a slightly duskier pink than the rest of his skin.  He considered for a moment getting it hard and putting on a cock ring.  He’d be able to get it up easily enough, and he even thought it would come up on it’s own once he was back in Otabek’s arms, but he couldn’t be sure it would  _ stay _ up once they actually started having sex unless he had the ring on.  And he assumed that Beka would want him to at least  _ appear _ aroused through the whole thing.  He was damnably polite that way.  Still, it seemed… wrong to bring Otabek into his bed with an artificially sustained erection.

 

In the end, he decided to leave it and hope that Beka would understand if he didn’t stay hard the whole time.  Once he pulled on a simple white nightshirt that hung to his thighs, he deemed all his prep work complete.

 

Otabek had nearly finished his book by the time he heard Yuri’s door open again.  He’d begun to wonder if perhaps Yuri had gone to bed without telling him goodnight.  He turned his head towards Yuri’s approach but hadn’t yet taken his eyes from his book when he spoke.  “Everything okay, Yura?  You’ve been gone a long-” His eyes finally caught up with the rest of his face and his mouth went dry.  He swallowed, trying to rectify the situation, and his throat clicked audibly.

 

Yuri looked…  There weren’t words for it, Otabek decided.  Or if there were, it would take a dozen poets a dozen years to capture them.  He had seen Yuri in every manner of sexualized outfit, from lace to leather to latex.  None of it could compare to the simple, natural beauty before him.  Yuri continued forward, each step making the nightshirt ride up higher on his thighs.  Otabek forced himself to remember how to breathe.

 

Without a word, Yuri crossed the last of the distance between them and straddled Otabek’s lap.  His pulse was racing but he kept his face serene as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Beka’s.

 

Otabek thought the world had stopped spinning.  Pleasure spiked through him from so many different directions that he stopped trying to trace them all and just let it consume him.  Yuri’s lips were soft and warm, his breath sweet, his tongue - ah, god, his tongue was wet and slick and curling seductively against the furl of Otabek’s lip.  He opened his mouth wider to accommodate the caress, his hands automatically rising to pull Yuri closer.  

 

Emboldened by Beka’s response, Yuri tipped his head to the side and deepened the kiss.  He’d kissed people before, hundreds of times, but somehow this one felt different. New.  Otabek kissed back with tempered eagerness, his passion obvious but his desire to be gentle with Yuri equally apparent.  It made Yuri’s chest feel tight.  Really, if he wasn’t so ridiculously nervous, it would have left him hard and aching.

 

One of Otabek’s hands slipped low, cradling the curve of Yuri’s hips, then raised back up beneath the shirt this time.  Thickly calloused fingertips traced along his spine and made Yuri shudder with pleasure.  Otabek’s hands stilled, and his body tensed.  He pulled back enough so that he could look at Yuri.

 

“Wh-” his voice was husky, and he had to swallow thickly before he could go on.  “What are we doing?”

 

“Kissing.”  Yuri leaned forward to start again, but Otabek pulled further back, his brow furrowed.

 

“I know what kissing is.  I mean… why?”

 

Yuri tilted his head to the side.  “Don’t you want to?”  Otabek lifted one of his hands from Yuri’s back and ran it over his face shakily.

 

“I- yeah, of course.  Of course I do.  But that doesn’t-”  He had to pull his head back again as Yuri leaned forward once more.  “That doesn’t explain why we’re kissing.  You’ve been kissable since the first day we met.” 

 

“Well now I’m offering.”  Yuri shrugged, wondering why it was proving so difficult to get Otabek to fuck him.  Any other man would already be thrusting into him by now.

 

“Why?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you offering?”

 

Yuri floundered for a moment.   _ I think it’s sexy the way you protect me _ didn’t seem like the right thing to say.   _ I think I might actually enjoy fucking you and want to find out for sure _ wasn’t right either.   _ I feel like I should because you’re so good to me _ was definitely a bad idea.  He shrugged again.  “We’ve been doing everything else couples do together,” he finally reasoned.  “So it only seemed fair that we-” he stopped, biting his tongue as Beka’s lips twisted into a frown.

 

“That’s not a good reason to have sex, Yura.”

 

“Then what is?” Yuri demanded, sitting back on Otabek’s thighs and throwing his hands in the air in frustration.  Really, they could be halfway  _ done _ by now!

 

“Affection?  Attraction?  Mutual desire?  Do you even like me that way?”  Otabek was staring at him so intently that Yuri felt utterly transparent.

 

“I… I got hard… thinking about you… before.”  It sounded feeble and half-hearted even to his own ears.  Otabek sighed.

 

“One erection doesn’t mean you’re attracted to mean, and it certainly doesn’t mean that you want to have sex with me.”

 

“I’m here, aren’t I?  Isn’t that indicator enough that I want to have sex with you?”  Frustration made Yuri’s tone sharp.  He hated the uncertainty he was feeling. 

 

“It’s… something.”

 

“You want me,” Yuri blurted, pressing his hips down to prove his point.  Otabek’s erection throbbed under him.  “I know you want me.”  A sliver of doubt made him falter.  Otabek could be attracted to him without deigning to want to actually fuck him.  “Right?”  His voice wavered for a moment.

 

Otabek cupped Yuri’s cheek, hating the uncertainty in his eyes.  “Sweetheart, you are an irresistible temptation.  I’d be an idiot not to want you.”

 

“You seem to be doing a pretty fucking good job of resisting,” Yuri muttered.  Otabek huffed a laugh.  

 

“Don’t let that fool you into thinking that the rest of me isn’t gagging for it.  But I… I care about you, Yura.  And I’m not going to fuck you just because we’ve been ‘doing everything else couples do.’”

 

“I think you’ve earned it.”

 

“ _ Don’t _ -”  Otabek’s voice was hard, and he carefully but firmly set Yuri away from him.  “Don’t make this about payment of some kind.  I told you when we met; I don’t have sex out of obligation or money.  You don’t  _ owe _ me anything for how things have been between us.  I’m not kind to you hoping it will earn me a quick fuck.  You deserve better than that, and so do I.”

 

“I didn’t mean-”  Yuri scrambled to get things back on track, struggling to figure out where he’d gone so wrong.  “I just thought…  I wanted to try-”

 

“Try what?”

 

“Sex.  Normal sex,” he clarified, his cheeks burning.  “With someone that I-”  He stopped, his blush spreading hotly down his neck and up to his ears.

 

“Someone that you what?” Otabek prompted gently.  He fought back a hopeful smile.  “Someone that you  _ what _ , sweetheart?”

 

“You’re just trying to get me to admit that I like you,” Yuri objected half-heartedly.

 

“Damn right I am.”  The smile spread, and Yuri tentatively mirrored it.

 

“Fine.  I like you.  Are you done fishing for compliments yet?  Can we have sex now?”   He started to move closer, but Otabek held him back again.  “What?”

 

“Yura… be honest with me.  More importantly, be honest with yourself.  Do you  _ want _ to have sex with me?  Not because you like me, not because you think we should, not for anything else but the sake of being physically intimate and pleasuring each other.”

 

Yuri paused.  Liking Beka and feeling like they should was part of it, and there was curiosity, and gratitude, and even some genuine arousal in there.  But for the sake of pleasuring each other?  He wanted to give that to Otabek, but he still didn’t know if it would work the same for him.  “I- I’m not sure.”  He bit his lip, then rushed on when Otabek’s eyes closed.  “I mean, I  _ think _ so.  I want to-  Fuck, why is this so hard to explain?  I just mean that I can’t promise that I’ll get off, without… forcing myself, and I don’t think you would want that.  But I don’t know, for sure, if I can… like it.  Jesus fucking Christ I sound like some fainting virgin in a dime store romance novel.  This is ridiculous.  I want to try, okay?  Isn’t that enough?”

 

“It’s a start.  And I’m glad that you like me and trust me enough to want to try.  But there’s no reason to rush right into sex.  There are plenty of other-”

 

“I’m clean,” Yuri said defensively.

 

“I know that-”

 

“And I’m already ready.  All you have to do is put it in.”  It was meant to be an enticement.  To encourage Beka to just get started.  Instead, he pulled back as if he’d been struck.

 

“You… prepped before you came out here?  That’s what you were doing before?”

 

Suddenly, Yuri felt like he’d made a terrible mistake.  There was a sharp, bitter kind of pain in Otabek’s eyes.  “I planned to do this, so I just-”

 

“That’s something you do with clients.”  His voice was flat.

 

“It’s just to be practical!  Otherwise-”

 

“Otherwise your customers wouldn’t take the time or bother, and they would seriously injure you.”  Otabek stood up.  A chill went down Yuri’s spine.  He trusted Beka.  He truly did.  But he was still twice Yuri’s size and dangerously trained.  “I’m not a  _ client _ .  I wouldn’t just shove my dick in you and get off on hearing you cry.  The thought of it makes me sick.  The fact that  _ you _ thought-”

 

“Beka, I didn’t!”

 

“-that I would, that I  _ could _ -”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way!”

 

“But you still did it!”

 

“It’s all I  _ know _ !”

 

Otabek took a step forward, and Yuri flinched.  They both froze.  Pain sliced through Otabek’s chest like a knife.  “A-are you afraid?”

 

“No!”  He said it too quickly, and they both knew it.  Otabek waited a beat, then took a slow step forward.  Yuri didn’t flinch again.  Otabek dropped to his knees, and gently lifted Yuri’s hand.  He pressed it against his cheek, then kissed the palm softly, his eyes squeezed shut.

 

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” he whispered.  His eyes opened then, and he stood.  “I need some space.”

 

“I’m sor-” Yuri reached forward when Otabek stepped back, but stopped when Beka held out his hand to ward him off.

 

“Don’t-”  His voice was still soft, but he seemed to be fighting for his careful control.  “I just need to think.  I need-”  He shook his head and turned away.

 

Yuri bit his lip to stop himself from begging  _ don’t leave _ .  He didn’t think he could bear it if Otabek walked out on him.  But instead of going to the front door, Otabek walked down the hall to his room and quietly shut the door behind him.  Relieved and confused and overwhelmed, Yuri curled up on the couch and forced himself not to cry.


	12. Chapter 12

Otabek paced the floor in his room and fought the urge to smash something.  To crush something to tiny, irreparable bits with his bare hands.  He took deep breaths and forced himself to calm down.  Replaying in his mind the way Yuri had flinched when he’d stepped forward was enough to douse the bulk of his anger.  Knowing that the whole situation had simply gotten out of hand would eventually fade the rest.

 

He was terribly conflicted.  Yuri wanted to have sex with him.  Wanted to  _ try _ having sex with him, at least.  That much alone should have made him ecstatic.  Yuri  _ liked _ him.  It felt like too much to even dream of.  And still, there were so many other things to consider.  Did Yuri want a  _ relationship _ with him?  Would he still, after the fight they’d just had?

 

Could Otabek really try something like that, considering Yuri’s job?  Their week off had been a break from the real world, but in two days, Yuri would be inviting other men into his bed again.  Otabek could barely stand to think about it. 

 

Even still, the vulnerability Yuri had shown when admitting that he didn’t know if he could like it, the tentative hope in his voice, the trust he’d shown Otabek in asking him to try… it took his breath away and weakened his resolve not to start something that would only end in heartbreak.

 

Wasn’t he already in too deep for that?  His own desires were raging in him, he was aching for just a  _ taste _ of Yuri.  He wanted Yuri.  Wanted to worship his body and show him how pleasurable sex could be, teach him to expect tenderness and consideration from a lover.  Give him a  _ reason _ to not think that he needed to prepare himself alone in the bathroom just to make sure that he wouldn’t be torn by an impatient or callous partner.

 

Otabek knew he’d over reacted to hearing that Yuri had done that.  It had reminded him so sharply of who and what they both were that he’d been irrational and thoughtless.  Yuri had said  _ it’s all I know _ , and that was only too true.  How was he supposed to know that a lover, a partner who cared for him, would gladly take their time helping his body adjust, would stroke and tease him through it so that the preparation was a pleasure instead of a chore?  He’d never experienced that.

 

The need to go and apologize for his outburst bubbled up in him, but Otabek forced himself to stay away until he’d thought the whole thing through.  He had no idea if Yuri would still want to sleep with him after what had happened, but if he did, Otabek needed to know if it was something he could do.   _ Want _ was not even a question.   _ Should _ was mirkier.   _ Could _ was still totally uncertain.  Could he bear to have Yuri, taste him, hold him, love him in the most literal sense, and then watch him let men hurt and objectify him?  He just couldn’t be sure.

 

In the end, he went back out without the answers he wanted.  Yuri was sitting on the couch and jumped up when he walked back in.

 

“Beka, listen, I’m-”

 

“Wait, Yura, let me say something.”

 

“But I-”

 

“It’s important,” Otabek pleaded.  Yuri bit his lip to halt his words, then nodded.  Otabek took both of his hands and squeezed them softly.  “I’m sorry for the way I reacted to… to what you’d done.  It was out of line and totally unfair to you.  I just- I hate thinking of you having to do any of that.  I know you don’t see me the same.  The fact that you were willing to ask that of me at all tells me you trust me.  I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you, and I definitely shouldn’t have scared you.  I’m sorry.”

 

Yuri gave him a tremulous smile, his eyes shiny with tears that he was keeping back by sheer force of will.  “You don’t have to apologize, but I appreciate it anyways.  I should have known better than to do it.  You’re nothing like anyone I’ve ever been with.  I  _ do _ trust you.  I wasn’t even really afraid of you when we were fighting.  I was startled, and I guess old habits die hard.  It was stupid to react that way.”

 

“It wasn’t stupid.  You’re incredibly smart, Yura, but sometimes our instincts get the better of us.”  He stroked the back of Yuri’s hand softly.  “Listen, if you don’t want to talk about this any more, then we can just forget the whole thing ever happened.  But if you do-”

 

“I do,” Yuri interjected.  Otabek blinked at him, surprised by his eagerness.  “You didn’t leave,” he said by way of explanation.  “I do.”

 

“I’m not  _ going _ to leave, sweetheart.  Not until you tell me to.  But this- us- there are things I’m not sure how to do.”

 

“You know how to do everything,” Yuri teased.

 

“Not this.  I didn’t consider myself a jealous man before I met you.  I don’t even have any right to  _ be _ jealous.  But I’m not sure I can be with you like this and… watch you…”

 

“Sleep with other men?” Yuri supplied.  Otabek grimaced and nodded.  “I get it if you can’t.  Honestly, I wouldn’t want to sleep with me after seeing all the shit I’ve done, either-”

 

“Yura, that’s not it at all.”

 

“It’s just,” Yuri went on as if he hadn’t heard Otabek, “you have to think about it as something other than sex.  You think of sex as something intimate and special and meaningful.  That’s not what I do with my clients.  It’s more like… boxing.  Do you ever do any boxing?”

 

“I kickbox sometimes,” Otabek answered slowly, not understanding at all what Yuri meant.

 

“So you find someone to spar with, and you get in the ring with them.  It’s physical, your body versus his, and you know you’re gonna get hurt some, and if you lose, you might even be humiliated.  But if you were good enough to be a professional at it, you’d be getting paid for it, so the pain and the losses would be worth it.  What I do in there,” he waved to the bedroom, “is just a job to me.  It’s an act, a part that I play convincingly while my body is just on autopilot.  It doesn’t  _ mean _ anything.  Not the way I think… not the way I think it would with you.”

 

“I… I think I can understand that.  At least, I can see how it could be that way for you.  But Yura, even with the sex aside, watching you box wouldn’t be the same as watching you be tortured.  Even if you were a boxer, I wouldn’t be able to just watch you being kicked when you were already down.”

 

“It won’t be like that any more.”  Yuri studied his hands, lacing them together so that they didn’t pick at the nearly healed scratches on his chest.  “After what happened… I think I’ll make some changes.  There are enough other clients whose tastes aren’t so extreme.  I might have to live a little more frugally to keep saving as much as I do, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

 

“Really?”  It seemed almost too good to be true.  Maybe his resolve was already weak, maybe he just wanted Yuri too badly to fight it enough, but Otabek found himself desperately hoping that this could work.

 

“Really.  So if you want… if you think you can…”  Yuri drew even closer, fitting his body against Otabek’s.  “Then I still want to try.”  Otabek let out a breath, his will crumbling away to dust.  He cupped Yuri’s face in his hands and tipped it up.

 

“One condition.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“If we start, and it turns out that you don’t like it, or you can’t get into it, or even if you’re just nervous or uncomfortable, you tell me and we’ll stop.  All you have to do is say, and I’ll stop.” 

 

“I don’t think-”

 

“I’m serious, Yura.  This is important to me.  You don’t have to just deal with it so that I can get off.  This is  _ us _ , together.  And if it turns out that it isn’t something you like, or you’re not comfortable with it, then we don’t have to do it.  I’ll still be here, I’ll still be  _ with _ you, even if we can’t have sex.”

 

“You… you would?”  Yuri’s shock was written all over his face.

 

“Yes,” Otabek breathed, hoping that Yuri could believe him.  “I can’t promise that I wouldn’t get myself off thinking about you, sweetheart, but you don’t ever have to feel pressured into sex.   There are plenty of other ways for people to be together.”

 

“Okay,” Yuri agreed, his heart pounding in his chest at the intensity of his feelings and in anticipation of what was coming next.  “Okay, I promise.  I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

 

“You’re sure this is still what you want?”  

 

Yuri nodded, hearing the blood rushing in his head.  Otabek was searching his eyes, looking for any doubt, but there wasn’t any.  He glanced up, quickly realized there was no way in  _ hell _ he was fucking Yuri on the big bed, and that the one in the closet bedroom was too small.  Instead, he turned them towards his own room.  The full sized bed would be a bit cramped considering Otabek’s size, but they could make it work.

 

Once they were in and he’d closed the door, Yuri sat somewhat nervously on the edge of the bed while Otabek stripped off his shirt.  His shoes and trousers came next, leaving him in practical black boxers and the chain around his neck that held the receiver.  Now that was a sight Yuri could get used to.  Otabek’s body was thickly built, his shoulders broad and his hips tapered.  His muscles were hard and taut, packed beneath skin that was an enviable shade of caramel.  Yuri was eager to see what was  _ under _ the boxers, but instead of taking them off, Beka joined him on the bed.  He pulled Yuri close slowly, giving him time to pull back, to change his mind.  Yuri did neither.  He went willingly, then kept going even when Otabek stopped, coming forward so that he could straddle Otabek’s hips.

 

The erection he’d felt earlier was back in full force, pressing against Yuri’s ass with only the fabric of the boxers separating them.  It seemed as large as Yuri had thought it would be, and he had one quick thrum of fear because it had been so long since he’d prepared himself, but he pushed it aside.  Otabek would take care of it.  He would take care of  _ Yuri _ .  

 

Instead of letting his nerves get the better of him, he kissed Beka, hard and deep, enjoying the feel of all that raw power beneath his fingers, tempered into gentleness.  Otabek’s hands rose up to cradle his hips, fingers kneading and stroking.  He broke the kiss so that he could trail his lips down Yuri’s neck to his chest.  The tiny, delicate gold studs through his nipples glinted in the low light, calling to Otabek.  He traced his tongue around them and then closed his lips over them, sucking softly and flicking his tongue over the buds.  Yuri arched and moaned, feeling the wet heat of it all the way down to his cock.  It twitched against his thigh and began to stir to life.

 

Otabek switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, laving it and teasing it until it was hard.  Very softly, Otabek let his teeth graze the taut skin.  Yuri gasped, his fingers digging into Beka’s shoulders.  Otabek looked up, his brows drawn together in concern.  “Good, or bad?”

 

“ _ Good _ ,” Yuri breathed, guiding his head back shamelessly, wanting more.  Otabek obliged, switching sides again and repeating the process while his hands wandered.  They circled Yuri’s waist, cupped his ass, stroked the crease of it lightly, then circled around to grip Yuri’s cock.  Moaning low, Yuri’s head fell forward and his hips bucked.  It felt  _ wonderful _ , better than Yuri’s own hand ever had.  His cock was fully hard now, straining away from his body and throbbing.  Even the fullness of it felt different, nothing like the almost painful constriction that came from wearing the cockring when he had to orgasm for a client.  It was hard and staying hard because what he was doing was pleasurable.

 

Otabek’s other hand dropped lower, cupping the weight beneath his cock, squeezing gently before slipping back further still.  There was some slickness there, but most of the water-based lubricant had evaporated.  Otabek didn’t press his fingers in, but instead rubbed them around the area, massaging lightly until Yuri was pressing down to deepen the contact.

 

In one swift move, Otabek twisted them on the bed so that Yuri was on his back, and Otabek was hovering over him.  He kissed Yuri deeply, grabbed the lube that had been optimistically left on the night stand, and slid down his body.  Beka slicked his fingers on one hand and used the other to grip Yuri’s cock.  His tongue swiped up the length of it, making Yuri arch off the bed and grip his hair.

 

“Beka!”  Yuri’s legs were shaking, his stomach muscles clenching as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him.  He’d had his cock sucked before.  A few times clients had done it, but it had never been just for his sake.  A few half-hearted licks for a scene was nothing compared to Otabek’s mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking and twirling his tongue around the head, pulling the foreskin further back with his hand and teasing his sensitive frenulum.  Yuri didn’t want it to ever end.  He thought he could just pull Beka’s hips up to his mouth, and they could give each other oral sex for the rest of time.

 

When he felt the slippery pressure of Beka’s fingers against him, Yuri widened his legs, giving him better access.  One digit slid in, thicker than Yuri’s own, but still not uncomfortable.  In fact, in tandem with the bobbing of Otabek’s head, it felt great.  He was used to the fullness, the ingress, but combined with actual pleasure, the penetration was incredibly pleasant.  While he was bucking his hips and mumbling incoherent encouragement, Otabek added a second finger.  Still, he kept sucking, keeping Yuri aroused and eager for more.  By the third finger, Yuri was a wreck.  He felt his orgasm just beneath the surface, making him mindless with the need for more.

 

“Please,” he begged shamelessly.  “Please, Beka.  Fuck me!”  He tugged at Otabek’s shoulders, trying to pull him up, but he might as well have been trying to move a mountain for all that Otabek budged.  Yuri could  _ feel _ his smirk even as he continued sucking, driving Yuri mad.  “Beka,” he moaned.  Finally, Otabek raised his head.  Still smirking, he eased his fingers out of Yuri and crawled back up until they were face to face.  Yuri hooked his legs over Otabek’s hips, trying to hurry him.  Beka glanced down, gripped himself, then stilled.

 

“Do you- do you want me to wear a condom?”

 

“Huh?”  The question seemed so out of place in Yuri’s pleasure drenched haze that it took him a moment to understand it.  “No.  I mean, unless you want-”  He flushed, thinking Otabek might not be comfortable barebacking.  Yuri was irreparably sloppy seconds, no matter how much he scrubbed.

 

“No,” Otabek said quickly.  “Not if you don’t mind.  I want to feel you.  All of you.”  And just like that, Yuri’s insecurities evaporated.  He nodded his consent and lifted his hips as Otabek guided his cock into place.  They paused with the head of it wedged against the tight opening, and Otabek leaned down to kiss him, long and deep.  Then, slowly, he pushed forward.

 

Otabek’s cock was one of the biggest Yuri had ever taken, but he’d been so carefully stretched and so incredibly aroused that Yuri felt nothing but pleasure at the steady thrust.  His muscles clenched rhythmically, his body adjusting to the fullness, his cock twitching in pleasure as Beka continued to stroke it.  They both moaned.  Yuri was hot and slick and tight and Otabek had to grit his teeth to keep from thrusting too hard or coming too soon.  Yuri felt like heaven and he wanted to draw this out, make it last until they were both drunk on pleasure.  Yuri was already there, any doubt he’d had about not being able to keep his erection obliterated.  Otabek felt so good inside him, so right, and when he canted his hips forward, he rubbed Yuri’s prostate and wrung a choked cry of pleasure from him.

 

“More,” he pleaded, wanting to feel Otabek slamming into him, wanting Beka buried as deep in him as he could get.  “Harder!”  Otabek obliged, still tempering his strength, but driving into Yuri hard and fast.  He could feel Yuri’s cock jerking in his hand and hoped to god he was reading the signs right, because at this pace, he was going to come soon and he  _ refused _ to orgasm before Yuri did.

 

“Yura,” he whispered hoarsely between thrusts.  “Can you come for me, sweetheart?”

 

“Yes!  Yes, yes, please!  Just a little-” his words cut off on a sob as release slammed into him.  Otabek gripped his pulsing cock, stroking it through the pleasure and thrusting hard enough to make his hips bounce against the mattress.  He let go of the vice grip he had on his control and came, his face buried against Yuri’s neck and his hips stuttering into him.

 

They were both slick with sweat and ejaculate, faces flushed and chests heaving.  For one disjointed moment, Yuri expected Otabek to get up and leave.  The need to clean the mess off of himself tagged along with the thought, and then Yuri remembered this wasn’t a scene, and Otabek wasn’t a customer.  He wasn’t disgusted to have Beka’s come inside of him, and he wrapped his arms around Otabek’s shoulders, pulling him closer simply because he could.

 

“Yura?” Otabek asked, smiling at the way Yuri was clinging to him.  “How do you feel?”

 

Yuri laughed.  “That’s the most ridiculous question you’ve ever asked me, Otabek Altin.  I just came all over both of us.  How do you think I feel?”

 

“Okay, well I’m  _ assuming _ good, but you know what they say about assuming.”

 

“Assume away.  I think you fucked me into nirvana.”

 

“Well that would be a first.”

 

“You’re telling me.”

 

“It was good for you, then?” Otabek asked, his face serious again.  “You liked it?  All of it?”

 

“ _ Yes _ .  Seriously.  It was fan-fucking-tastic from start to finish.  I want to do that again.”

 

“What, right now?”  Otabek looked slightly panicked, and Yuri chuckled.

 

“No, right now I just want to sleep.  Who knew that good sex was so fucking exhausting?”

 

“A good orgasm can knock a man on his ass,” Otabek agreed, his own limbs feeling incredibly, deliciously heavy.  “Will you stay?  Here with me?  Or do you want to-”

 

“I’ll stay,” Yuri interrupted quickly.  “If you want, I mean.”

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.”  He grabbed a tissue from the night stand, wiped their stomachs down, and then pulled Yuri close again.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

 

“For the sex?”

 

Otabek inclined his head.  “For the sex, for trusting me the way you do, for being comfortable enough with me to enjoy that, for sharing your first time with me…”

 

“Beka,” Yuri chided incredulously, cheeks heating.  “That was hardly my first-”

 

“Your first like this,” he clarified.  “I’m honored it was me.”

 

“You sound like a seventeenth century suitor declaring his hand.”  The tenderness of it, the open honesty in Otabek’s eyes, had Yuri shifting in embarrassment.

 

“Would you like that, fair prince?” Otabek asked with a smile.  “I humbly declare my intent to court you, sir.  I hope you’ll treat my heart kindly.”

 

“Your role play skills are lacking, but your valiant attempt pleases me, good sir knight.  I accept your suit.  You may woo me at your leisure.”  He laid back and spread his arms in a grand gesture of availability.

 

“In that case, I’ll start wooing you tomorrow.  For now, what I want is to hold you and sleep.”

 

“You’d hold a man before marriage?  You rake!”  Yuri waggled his eyebrows.  “I like it.”  Otabek laughed, pulling Yuri close.

 

“Goodnight, sweet prince,” he murmured into Yuri’s ear.  Yuri hummed back, his eyes already closed.

 

***

 

Otabek sat bolt upright, traces of a dream fleeing his mind.  One thought remained, though, and he smacked a hand to his forehead in aggravation.  Yuri stirred, then opened one eye blirily.

 

“Wha’s wrong?” 

 

“I’m an inconsiderate asshole.”

 

“What?  Why?”  Yuri pushed up to one elbow, concerned by the look on Otabek’s face.  He seemed incredibly upset.

 

“I didn’t even  _ think _ to ask if you wanted to top.”

 

“Oh, that?”  Sleep immediately began dragging Yuri back under, now that he knew there was nothing to be concerned about.  He patted Otabek’s arm placatingly.  “We can do it some other time if you want.  I’m too tired right now.”  He snuggled close again and was back asleep a moment later.  Otabek huffed, half in amusement and half in annoyance - still with himself.  He  _ should _ have asked.  It had been incredibly rude to just assume that Yuri would bottom, and it wasn’t as though Otabek objected to them switching.

 

But Yuri hadn’t seemed upset by it, and Beka had to admit that the sex had been incredible for them both, so he guessed no harm had been done.  Feeling a little better, he settled himself down next to Yuri and went back to sleep.

 

***

 

The next day felt like something of a holiday.  When they woke up, Otabek started Yuri’s morning with a very welcomed blow job.  It was the first time Yuri had come in someone’s mouth, and he decided that he liked the sensation of it very,  _ very _ much.  They showered together and Yuri reciprocated, despite Beka’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary.  Yuri was exceptionally good at oral sex, though, and for once he wanted to use those skills on someone who deserved them.  It was no struggle to take Otabek’s considerable length down his throat, and he had Beka coming hotly in less than five minutes.  The smirk he wore when he stood back up was incredibly smug.

 

The rest of the day was spent lazily exploring each other’s bodies.  Under Otabek’s touch, Yuri was sensitive and responsive.  Beka could coax him to hardness with his hands, or mouth, or even a few whispered words.  Yuri, of course, knew every way to arouse a man.  Learning what Otabek specifically liked, though, was a pleasure in itself.  It was fun and satisfying to make Beka feel good just because he wanted to.

 

They ordered take away and used each other as plates, took another shower to clean up the sticky mess, and ended the night in Otabek’s bed again.  This time, he remembered to  _ ask _ which position Yuri wanted, and though Yuri was eager to explore every aspect of this new arena, he was more eager for a repeat of the night before.  Beka took him on his hands and knees this time, the angle making him go deeper, and hit Yuri’s prostate harder.  His orgasm nearly made him see stars, and when they collapsed back onto the bed, he struggled to find the right words to express his gratitude.  Otabek just took him into his arms, kissed him soundly, and ran his fingers through his hair until he fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Otabek woke up in the morning with a sick feeling in his stomach.  Yuri had a client that night.  They hadn’t talked about it, but he knew.  Their week together had been a break from the harsh reality of Yuri’s life, but now things would go back to normal.  In a handful of hours, a man would come into the loft, Yuri would take him into the bedroom, and fuck him.  He would let himself be whipped or tied up or gagged or pissed on, and then they would come in him and leave, as if Yuri was some disposable sex toy.  Otabek’s fists clenched.

 

Yuri stirred, coming awake slowly.  He’d quickly become used to the heat of Beka’s body against his, the security of his bulk to curl up against.  He could feel, even before he opened his eyes, the tension in Otabek.  And he could take a guess as to what it was from.  For a moment, he thought about slipping down the bed and taking Beka’s length into his mouth, but decided that sex wasn’t likely to fix the problem.  Instead, he stretched, cuddled closer, and kissed Otabek softly.

 

“I want to go to the park today,” he whispered.  Otabek turned, his face relaxing just a little.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Mmhm, and then I want to take you to the aquarium.”

 

“You’re going to take  _ me _ ?  I thought I was the driver here.”

 

“Well, you’re going to drive, but since it was my idea, I’m taking you.  And then we’re going to that awful sounding greek restaurant you told me about for dinner.”

 

“Yura… are you taking me on a  _ date _ ?”

 

“That depends,” Yuri said sweetly.  “Will you say yes?”

 

Otabek kissed his forehead gently and smiled down at him.  “Of course I will.”  Yuri grinned.

 

“Then yes, it’s a date.  Come on, let’s get ready!”  He bounded out of bed like an eager child, and Otabek followed him, laughing.

 

It was exactly the distraction they both needed from the looming threat of the night’s work.  They picnicked in the park, Yuri getting out his camera to take more pictures of the trees whose leaves had begun to change color.  They strolled around the aquarium hand in hand, pointing out each other’s favorite parts and laughing like dirty teenagers when they saw one pair of animals mating.

 

They ate dinner at the greek place, and Yuri admitted that the food was delicious.  They both made ridiculous messes of themselves and teased each other for it, then helped clean up.  

 

It wasn’t until they got back to the loft that the sick feeling settled back into Otabek’s stomach.  Yuri looked up at him, biting his lip, his expression clearly torn.  He needed to go get ready, but it was obvious he didn’t want to upset Otabek.  Though it went against his every instinct, Otabek kissed him gently and urged him towards the bedroom.  Yuri went with a small, grateful smile at Otabek’s understanding.

 

An hour later, he came back out wearing a plain top, snug shorts, and glittery sky high heels.

 

“Another foot fetish guy?” Otabek asked, despite the fact that it was obvious.  Yuri nodded.

 

“Harlan doesn’t even use my ass, he just wants my feet.”  Yuri stopped, realizing how crude that had sounded, and blushed.  “I mean- I mean, he doesn’t fuck me.  Not really.”

 

“Come here, sweetheart.”  Otabek held out his arms, seeing how much Yuri was struggling.  He was trying, desperately, to reconcile the two halves of his life, and it was incredibly difficult.  Yuri practically dove into Otabek’s lap, the heels proving to be no hinderance at all to his grace.  “I’m glad it’ll be an easy night for you,” he whispered, stroking Yuri’s hair.  Yuri buried his face against Otabek’s neck, soaking in the smell of him, the feel of him, the security of being in his arms.  It was so fucked up to be needing comfort from Otabek like this, and probably cruel to have Beka be the one to give it to him, all things considered, but Yuri couldn’t help it.

 

“Would you braid my hair again?” 

 

Otabek pulled back enough to look at Yuri’s face.  “You want me to?”  When Yuri nodded, he agreed.  “Alright, on the floor then.”  Beka straightened up and made room for Yuri between his knees.  Yuri sat with his legs stretched out, the little beads of the heels clicking against the floor as Otabek began to weave strands of his hair together.

 

“Sometimes I paint them just for fun, you know,” Yuri said suddenly.  Otabek paused, glancing over Yuri’s head to the shoes.

 

“Your toes?”

 

“Yeah.  It’s… fun, sometimes.  I don’t think I’d ever get a tattoo or dye my hair or anything like that, so it’s something I can do for a change.”

 

“What color do you pick?” Otabek asked, resuming his braiding.  “I’m guessing that pastel blue isn’t really your style.”

 

“Not at all.  I like bright, neon colors.  Or cherry red.  One time I did tiger stripes; it was amazing!”

 

“I’d like to see that sometime.”

 

“Maybe I’ll try it again this weekend.  It might stay warm enough for sandals for a few more days.  We could go to the park and walk barefoot in the grass, and I can show off my excellent paint skills.”

 

“That sounds perfect.”

 

Otabek continued braiding smaller and smaller pieces as they talked about the most outrageous ways Yuri could paint his toenails, then he wove all the tiny braids together into a single, intricate rope that hung down to Yuri’s shoulders.  He’d just secured it with an elastic that Yuri provided when there was a knock on the door.

 

“You don’t have to stay out here, if you’d rather not,” Yuri murmured as Otabek helped him stand.

 

“Do you want me to stay, Yura?  Be honest.”

 

Yuri bit his lip, then nodded.  He didn’t want his lover to have to see the man Yuri would be taking to bed, but even though he didn’t expect trouble from Harlan, he felt more secure when clients saw the hulking bodyguard in his living room before their scene began.  Otabek kissed Yuri’s forehead.  “Then I’ll stay.”  He went to his usual seat in the corner and nodded to Yuri to open the door.

 

***

 

There were no sounds from down the hall.  No moans, no crack of something hard hitting skin, nothing.  The silence almost seemed worse.  An hour later, the front door closed.  Otabek sat on the chair in his room, looking at the closed door.  He had no idea what he was supposed to do.  Usually, he waited for Yuri in the living room, and if he came out, they talked.  Was Yuri going to come back out after this?  If he did, and Otabek wasn’t there, would he think Otabek was mad, or disgusted?   _ Was _ he mad? 

 

He wanted to be.  Maybe he ought to be.  But Otabek didn’t blame Yuri.  He opened the door to his bedroom and saw Yuri standing in the hall.  It was dark, and his face was cast in shadows, but Otabek could see the uncertainty there.  He was wearing just the nightshirt again, and his skin looked bright pink from scrubbing.  He took a step forward, then faltered.  Otabek’s heart clenched.  Yuri looked so young and terribly, terribly fragile.

 

Without a word, Otabek held out his hand.  Yuri’s breath caught, then he flew to Beka, clinging to him tightly.  He was trembling, and Otabek practically carried him to bed.  When they kissed, Yuri turned his face up eagerly, desperate for more.  Each caress felt like forgiveness, like acceptance, and every touch he returned was laced with gratitude.  Soon they were straining together, moving in tandem seeking pleasure that they only wanted from each other.  It was intense and needy, bodies crashing together harder and faster until they finally came with shuddering cries.

 

Still, neither of them spoke.  There were no words to say.  Instead, they held each other close and waited for sleep.

 

***

 

“Would you be willing to help me with some new pictures for the website?” Yuri asked after breakfast the next day.  Otabek frowned.

 

“That depends.  Do you want me to  _ take _ the pictures or be in them?  Actually, it doesn’t matter, I don’t think I’d be good at either.”

 

Yuri laughed.  “First of all, you’d be so incredibly hot in erotic pictures that people would come in their pants, but I actually don’t need you to do either of those.  I just need you to sit in the places I’ll be so that I can adjust the settings on the camera.  It takes ages trying to do it by myself.”

 

“Oh.  Really?  You can still take the pictures yourself, then?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got a timer that I use.  You can be all the way in another room before the shutter clicks, if you want.”

 

“I’m not  _ that _ camera phobic.”

 

“You’ll do it, then?”  Yuri sounded so hopeful that Otabek couldn’t help but laugh.  He nodded his agreement, and Yuri hurried off to set up his camera.

 

True to his word, all Otabek needed to do was sit on the bed in various positions while Yuri adjusted his camera’s settings and changed the light.  Once he had a shot set up the way he wanted, he would shoo Otabek out of the way, get whatever props he needed, and be artfully posed by the time the camera flashed.

 

Some of the time, it was easy to see what fetish Yuri was highlighting, and in others Otabek had no idea what was going on.  But Yuri had taken pictures for his website before, and seemed to know what he was doing, so Beka didn’t question it.

 

When he was done, Yuri loaded the pictures onto his laptop and began editing them.  At first Otabek stayed politely in the kitchen, cooking lunch, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him and he abandoned the meal to watch over Yuri’s shoulder.  Yuri was putting the finishing touches on a picture, and Otabek’s breath hitched.  It was gorgeous.

 

Yuri was kneeling away from the camera, but he was looking back over his shoulder at it.  His hair was up in a bun, showcasing the long, elegant line of his neck and the sweep of his spine.  His hands were bound behind his back in an intricate weave of silk ropes that looked more seductive than constricting.  The picture was in black and white, and somehow the lines of it seemed softer than was physically possible, as though Yuri and everything around him was made of satin.

 

“That- that’s very good,” Otabek managed to say.  Yuri turned and flashed him a smile.

 

“You think so?”  He studied the picture critically.  “I’m not sure it’s good enough to be on the website.”

 

“No, it’s good enough for it.  Definitely.  On second thought, maybe it’s not.  Maybe you should just print out a copy of this picture and I’ll keep it so that no one else sees it.  A big copy.  Poster size.”

 

Yuri giggled and swatted him away, but Otabek went back a few minutes later to see the next picture.  They were similar enough in style to the ones on the website for Otabek to easily see Yuri had taken both sets, but there were vast differences in the photos.  The ones on the site were explicit and harsh, showing Yuri twisted into various uncomfortable looking positions or with painful looking welts across his back.  They could have been taken out of a sado-masochism porno.

 

The new ones were softer, tamer, more sensual than sexual.  They hinted at pleasure, promised dark delights, but didn’t give away any secrets.  Yuri uploaded them to the website, updated the list of services he offered, and closed his laptop as if he was closing the door to a part of his life he never wanted to look back on.

 

That night he came out wearing a little white dress and his hair in pigtail braids.

 

“The daddy guy again?”

 

“A different one.  You’d be surprised how common of a kink it is.”

 

Otabek nodded, taking his word for it.  “Someone you’ve seen before?”

 

“Yeah.  Shouldn’t be any trouble.  But Beka…”

 

“I know,” Otabek said, keeping his face carefully blank.  The night before had eased them back into things somewhat, but this time, Yuri would actually be having sex with his client.  Someone else would be sticking their cock in him, coming in him-  Otabek closed his eyes to banish the thought.  He sat in the corner and waited for Yuri’s client to arrive.

 

***

 

There were muted sounds this time, occasional moans and a rhythmic thudding that told Otabek exactly when they’d moved on from foreplay, but no cries of pain.  That was something, at least.  It was better than before, he told himself.  It wasn’t perfect - hell, it wasn’t even  _ good _ \- but it was better.

 

It took longer this time before the client left, and longer still before there was a soft, hesitant knock on his door.  Yuri was standing in the hall wrapped in the old quilt from his bed and nothing else.  When they laid down on the bed together, Otabek could feel the heat coming off of Yuri’s skin where he’d scrubbed it raw.  Yuri wouldn’t meet his eyes.

 

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself washing like this,” he murmured, running his fingers lightly over Yuri’s reddened skin.

 

“I didn’t want… it felt… wrong, coming to your bed, after that, without being… clean.”

 

“You’re not  _ dirty _ , Yura, no matter what’s done to you.”

 

“But I-”

 

“I’m not asking you to stop altogether.  I’m just asking that you treat yourself the way I would treat you.  Can you do that for me?”

 

Yuri nodded slowly.   “Do you want to have sex?”

 

“Do  _ you _ want to have sex?” Otabek countered.  Yuri stopped to think about it, really think about it, then shook his head.  “Then we won’t.”

 

“But you-”

 

“I’m an able bodied adult, sweetheart.  I can certainly take care of it myself if I need to and you’re not in the mood.  Right now, I just want to hold you.  Is that okay?”

 

In reply, Yuri snuggled deeper into Otabek’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say again how blown away I am by the response to this story. You guys have been amazing, and it's been keeping me encouraged to update as often as possible. Thank you all so much for your comments. I truly appreciate every single one. 
> 
> For those that have asked, I also write on FFN under the same name, and have other YOI stories over there. I also have a Tumblr, ArabellaFaith, where I write a little about my stories and reblog general YOI and smut. Come say hello!
> 
> ETA: The lovely worldofcopperwings did amazing fanart for this chapter!!!!! If you want to see the photo Yuri took for the website, [this](https://snapesfaith.tumblr.com/post/164145850104/worldofcopperwings-i-binge-read-snapesfaiths) is it!


	14. Chapter 14

“Ian is coming back tonight, so there’s something I want to show you,” Yuri said after lunch the next day.

 

“The client I-”

 

“Went ballistic on for no reason?  Yeah, him.  And to prevent something like that from happening again, and to get rid of that scowl I can already see forming on your face, I thought I’d show you what’s going to happen.”

 

“Okay,” Otabek said it as more of a question, not entirely certain he wanted to see what exactly they would be doing.

 

“Have you ever used candle wax during sex before?”

 

“I keep trying to convince you that I’m not really the naive innocent I come across as, but that’s one thing I can’t say I have tried before.  It seems like it would be… messy.”

 

“It can be, I guess, if you’re not careful, but it doesn’t have to be.  And the main thing I want to convince you of is that it’s not really  _ painful _ .  Will you let me show you?”

 

It wasn’t something Beka had ever really been curious about, but knowing that it was going to be done to Yura in just a few hours did make him want to see how it felt.  He nodded and let Yuri lead him back to the bedroom.  Yuri pulled the blanket off just in case any wax spilled, took Otabek’s shirt off, then laid him down on the bed and straddled him.

 

“Candles made for this have a lower melting point than regular candles.  That means the wax doesn’t get as hot in liquid form.  It’s safer, and less painful.”

 

“I thought you said it wasn’t painful at all,” Otabek protested, watching Yuri light the candle and wait for the tip to soften.  He wasn’t worried about it hurting  _ him _ \- he had a rather high pain tolerance; it was practically a must with the job he did - but he didn’t like the idea of it hurting Yura.

 

“It’s not, exactly.  It can be uncomfortable, and it can sting, but that’s not really pain.  If you sat down on one of those metal benches in the park on a hot day and your skin touched it, it wouldn’t feel  _ good _ , but you wouldn’t say it’s painful, right?”

 

“I guess.”  Otabek watched a bead of wax slip down the length of the candle.  Then his eyes went back up as Yuri tipped it sideways so that the next drop would fall from the tip.  As he did, he shifted his hips around on Beka’s lap, wiggling until Otabek’s cock was directly beneath him and twitching slightly with interest.  A drop fell and hit Otabek’s skin, a few inches below his left nipple where there was no hair.  Otabek inhaled at the shock of it, but Yuri had been right, it wasn’t painful.  It was hot, enough that there would be a pink spot on his skin there for a while, but not enough to burn him.

 

“Not so bad, right?”  Yuri waited for Otabek to nod, then let another drop fall, an inch below the first one.  When it hit, he moved the candle out of the way and licked Otabek’s nipple.  Beka jerked in surprise, his cock coming to life eagerly.  Another drop fell, and he got another lick.  He groaned in pleasure and Yuri moved to the other side to repeat the process.

 

“Is- this-” Otabek tried to speak between drops, his stomach muscles contracting sharply at each contact, “something you- like?”

 

Yuri paused for a moment, letting Otabek catch his breath.  “Doing it, or having it done to me?”

 

“Both.”

 

“I know how to make it feel good, and I like doing anything that makes you feel good, so I’m enjoying this now.”  He grinned wickedly, then gyrated his hips while he gave Beka’s nipple a biting kiss.  “Having it done to me… I’ve never really  _ liked _ it before, not like this.  But… with you, I might.”

 

“Next time- then-”  Otabek panted, his hands now gripping Yuri’s thighs as he bucked his hips up.  He was hard and throbbing.  Yuri pressed close to him again and put out the candle.

 

“Do you want to fuck me?”

 

“I-”  Otabek stilled, stopping himself from saying  _ yes, yes, god yes please _ , because if he did, Yuri would oblige.  “I’m not sure we should,” he finally said.  “I don’t want to make you… sore.”  He meant because someone else would be fucking Yuri later.  They both felt the weight of that acutely.

 

“I could blow you, then,” Yuri offered lamely.  He’d been the one to start this, he’d been the one to bring up the fact that he’d be taking a client tonight, but still, he hated that it was lying there between them like a third wheel.

 

“What if… Would you want to be on top?  I mean, you fuck  _ me _ ?”

 

Yuri looked at him sideways, as if he expected it to be a joke.  He vaguely remembered Beka making some comment about that after the first time they’d had sex, but he’d half thought it might have been a dream.  “You’d want to do that?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind.”  He shifted beneath Yuri a little, suddenly having a very clear mental image of how  _ perfect _ Yuri was to look at from the back, and realizing that he was not nearly so beautiful.  “I’m not, well, as bare and spotless as you-”  He stopped when Yuri laughed.

 

“Beka, I’m aware that most men grow actual  _ hair _ on their bodies and not the invisible  _ fuzz _ that I usually get rid of.  And I certainly don’t expect you to have prepped or anything.  That doesn’t turn me off at all.  I just want to make sure you’re not just offering this for my sake.  Have you ever taken it before?”

 

“A few times.”  Otabek pulled Yuri close and kissed him.  “And I have no doubt that I’ll enjoy it with you.  So.  Do you want to?” Yuri nodded, trying not to look too eager.  “Okay, then.  How do you want me?”

 

“Well-”  Yuri knew from experience that it would be easier on Beka if he was on his hands and knees, but he didn’t think that would be possible.  “I think we’ll have to do it like this.  I wouldn’t be able to reach you if you were turned over.  Not to mention I’d look like a chihuahua trying to hump a german shepherd.”

 

“You don’t look anything like a chihuahua,” Otabek said with a chuckle at the mental image, “but I’m fine staying like this.”  He lifted his hips so Yuri could shimmy his underwear down, then watched in anticipation while Yuri took his clothes off too.  A moment later, Yuri was sitting back on his heels between Otabek’s legs.  Beka handed him the lube and bent his knees a little further.

 

“You’re really sure about this?” Yuri asked, giving him another opportunity to change his mind.  Otabek nodded.  “Okay, then.  Here I go.” He leaned down and took Beka’s cock in his mouth, holding it into place with one hand while he pressed a slick finger of the other hand into Otabek’s body.  Otabek jumped at the ingress, then moaned as Yuri’s tongue made wet circles against the head of his cock.  Yuri added a second when Beka relaxed, then a third.  He was careful to keep Otabek on the edge but not let him come yet, wanting to save that for while Yuri was inside him.

 

When Otabek was ready, Yuri pulled back and lined his cock up with Beka’s slick, waiting hole.  He glanced up, saw the arousal and anticipation in Otabek’s eyes, then looked back down and pressed forward.  His cock slipped past the tight muscle and then slid balls deep in a single push.  Otabek hissed in a breath at the sudden fullness, but he’d been well enough stretched and lubed that it wasn’t painful.  Yuri gave him a moment to adjust, taking the time to grip Otabek’s cock and stroke it, then he set up a rhythm of driving forward as he moved his fist over Otabek’s cock.

 

He felt like he’d barely started when he realized this was going to be an embarrassingly short fuck.  “God you feel so fucking good,” he breathed.

 

“So do-” Otabek’s breath hitched as Yuri brushed his prostate, “you.  Faster.”  Fighting to stave off his rising orgasm, Yuri thrust faster.  He began to wonder if he was going to have to resort to reciting sports statistics or picturing Alfred Hitchcock in a thong to keep himself from coming, but then Otabek’s breathing grew ragged and his legs started to shake.  “Harder,” he gasped.  Yuri slammed into him as hard as he could.  “I’m-”

 

“Me too,” Yuri moaned, thanking every deity known to man that he’d lasted long enough.  Otabek’s cock pulsed and he came, striping his chest in milky white while Yuri orgasmed inside of him.  When the shoots of pleasure finally subsided, Yuri eased himself out and sat back on his heels.  “Holy  _ fuck _ .”

 

“My sentiments exactly,” Otabek agreed.  He chuckled when Yuri tried to stand and his legs wobbled.  “Careful there.”

 

“Yeah, yeah!”  Yuri managed to make it to the bathroom, wash up, and return to bed without face planting, which he considered a win since his legs felt like overcooked noodles.  Otabek was wiping come off his stomach when he collapsed down beside him.  “Should I ask how that was for you?”

 

“Well I think the evidence is pretty compelling, but you’re always welcome to ask.”

 

“Alright, then, how was it?”

 

Otabek shrugged one shoulder and wrinkled his nose.  “Eh.”  Yuri hit him in the face with his pillow and they both dissolved into giggles.

 

***

 

When Yuri was ready and they were in the living room waiting for the client to arrive, Yuri took Otabek’s face in his hands and kissed him gently.  “Don’t forget, it’s just noise.  I’ll be fine.  I promise.”  Not trusting himself to speak, Otabek just nodded.  He sat in the corner.  There was a knock at the door.  With one last glance at Beka, Yuri opened it and let Ian in.  The man’s eyes darted over to Otabek.  

 

Otabek stared impassively back at him.  Ian shuddered and tugged Yuri along into the bedroom.  After the door was closed, Otabek went down the hall to his room and sat on the bed.  He wanted to try and read a book or watch a movie, anything to distract himself, but he knew he wouldn't be able to focus.  A minute passed, then two.  Then five.  

 

And then suddenly he heard Yuri cry out.  There was a pause, then it came again.  Otabek told himself it was fake.  He’d felt the wax himself.  It wasn’t unbearable.  Yuri was fine.

 

The begging started, and Otabek felt a twist of disgust in his gut.  He wondered what kind of man got off on the sounds of his partner begging him to stop and screaming in pain.  It was some consolation that the man wasn’t  _ actually _ harming Yuri, but the fact that he liked the thought of it, the sound of it, still sickened Otabek.

 

It couldn’t have lasted more than an hour, but it felt to Otabek like an eternity before Yuri’s voice died down and then the front door closed.  Some of the tension left him, but Otabek knew he wouldn’t fully relax until Yuri was in his arms and he could see for himself that Yuri was unharmed.

 

A while later, there was a soft knock on the door, then Yuri pushed it open.  He waited on the threshold until he saw Beka hold his hand out to him.  Yuri flew across the room and dove into the space Otabek made for him on the bed.  By the moonlight filtering in through the windows, Otabek inspected Yuri’s body.  It was littered with pink splashes and streaks, the marks from the wax visible because Yuri had done as he’d asked and not scrubbed himself raw.  Otabek kissed every single spot.  When he was done, he held Yuri close and breathed in the scent of him.

 


	15. Chapter 15

They settled into a routine that was manageable for them both.  Their days were their own, spent going to the park, or skating, or lounging around the house watching silly tv shows.  Otabek took Yuri for long rides through the countryside on his motorcycle.   He was teaching Yuri how to kickbox, and Yuri was sharing his love of photography with Otabek.  They did mundane domestic things like cleaning the house and cooking meals and bickering over whether to buy wheat or white bread.  Five nights a week, Yuri took clients.  They were far tamer than some of his original ones, but it was still exhausting work.  When he was done for the night, Yuri would go to Otabek’s bed.  Otabek would give him whatever he needed.  Comfort, distraction, a feeling of security before he fell asleep.  One night Yuri came in and jumped him.  They had rough, desperate sex.  Yuri didn’t explain what had prompted it, and Otabek hadn’t asked.

 

It wasn’t ideal, but it was functional.  They were making it work.

 

The three month deadline had begun to loom in Otabek’s mind.  He didn’t think that what was between them would end when they hit that mark, but he did think that perhaps his employment would - or  _ should _ .  With Yuri not taking the more extreme clients any more, there was far less chance of him being hurt or needing Otabek to help him after a scene.  And there had been no more ugly notes or sightings of Yuri’s stalker.  Otabek didn’t feel like he was doing any real  _ work _ .  Being with Yuri, spending time with him, taking care of him, those were things that Beka would do on his own now, salary be damned.

 

But what then?  If Otabek wasn’t working for Yuri, he would want to look for another job.  It would mean weeks away from Yuri at a time, not to mention that without the full use of his right hand, he wasn’t sure what jobs he could get doing actual bodyguard work.  Yuri had been his first client in months, and that had been at a significantly reduced rate than what Otabek had been making before.

 

Otabek began to wonder for the first time if his career as a bodyguard really was over.  The odds of him finding another job like this one were astronomical.  And honestly, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.  Yes, he still wanted to protect people, make them feel safe, but maybe it was time to find another way to do that.  

 

***

 

Yuri was walking home from the park with his camera around his neck, thinking of the way he could edit some of the pictures he’d taken to get them to their absolute best.  He’d insisted on going by himself and sending Otabek to the gym, instead.  He wanted to start trying to live his life normally now that things seemed to have settled down, and it  _ was _ supposed to be Otabek’s day off, after all.  Otabek had double checked that the panic button on his ring was still working, then hesitantly agreed.  They’d spent almost every moment together for weeks.  Maybe it was good for them to get a little time apart.

 

The loft was less than a block away when Yuri realized he wasn’t alone on the sidewalk any more.  Still, it was a beautiful fall day, and there were bound to be other people out enjoying it besides him.  He picked up his pace slightly but didn’t panic.

 

A glance to his left showed him the shadow of the man behind him picking up his pace as well.  Now, panic began to set in.  The building was only half a block away.  He wondered if he would be able to remember any of the kickboxing moves Otabek had taught him. He wondered how long it would take Otabek to get to where he was from the gym if he pushed the panic button.

 

A hand grabbed him at the elbow and he jerked away, trying to run, but he was caught back-

 

“Yuri!”  The voice was vaguely familiar, and Yuri turned.

 

“Camden?”  Yuri’s racing pulse began to slow.  The man before him was several years older than Yuri had last seen him, but unmistakably a previous client.  It took a moment, then Yuri remembered.  Degradation kink.  Probably something to do with how small his dick was.  He hadn’t been Yuri’s most pleasant client, and when he’d been fired from his job and couldn’t afford Yuri any more, Yuri hadn’t mourned the loss.

 

“So you do remember me!  I thought you’d have long forgotten old friends now that you’ve moved onto bigger and better things.”

 

Unease prickled along Yuri’s spine and a memory of a night long before stirred.  “I never forget old friends,” he said carefully, “and I remember old clients, too.”  He wondered if it was foolish to risk angering Camden by making that distinction.  But they were out in the open, on a street in broad daylight.  Surely he wouldn’t do anything stupid where he could so easily be seen.

 

“Still as snide as I remember,” Camden said with a forced smile.  The memory tugged again, not Camden, but another client.  One who’d paid extra to video him.  He’d gotten Yuri drunk, and Yuri had been too young and stupid to know better.

 

“Not a lot has changed after all, I guess.  Are you working at all these days?”  The jab hit it’s mark and Camden flinched.  Then his face mottled with fury.

 

“I’ve got a respectable job, you pathetic piece of shit.  I’m not just some whore who’ll fuck anything for a dime.”

 

The phrase was familiar, and as soon as Yuri realized why, the rest of the memory came back to him.  The client who’d paid to video him had brought in a friend once Yuri was too drunk to object.   _ Camden _ .  Yuri had bought back the original video later, but apparently not before a second copy had been made for the other person who’d been there.  Camden had become a regular shortly after that night, but apparently once he lost his job, that video had been his link to Yuri.  Until he’d started stalking him.

 

“You son of a bitch!  It was  _ you! _ ”  Yuri took a step forward in rage, but then stepped back.  He didn’t want to be any closer to Camden.  They were out in the open, yes, but the street was terrifyingly empty.

 

“So you figured it out.”  Camden grabbed Yuri’s arm again and held it in a crushing grip when he tried to yank it back.  “I thought you were too stupid for that, but I guess even dumb cunts like you have to get lucky from time to time.”

 

“Let go of me,” Yuri demanded, making his voice sound as forceful as he could.  As much like  _ Otabek’s _ as he could.

 

“I don’t think so.  I think we’re just going to cross the street to your building, and you’re going to share with me the new code to the  _ fucking _ door, and we’re going to take some time to reacquaint ourselves.”  He twisted Yuri’s arm behind his back and then forced him forward.  Yuri pressed the panic button in his ring and prayed that Otabek was already on his way home from the gym.

 

***

 

Otabek was debating on whether to spend twenty minutes on the treadmill, or just jog the long way home.  He preferred running outside, in the fresh air, but the treadmills at the gym had settings for hills and rough terrain, and jogging in the city just didn’t offer the same challenge.  Still, he’d already had a fair workout and was curious to see what crazy pictures Yuri would come home from the park with.  Yura was actually an incredibly good photographer, though he always brushed it aside when Otabek said so.  The university offered photography classes.  Maybe he could suggest it-

 

A red light glowed from under his damp t-shirt.  The vibration started a half second later.  Less than a second after that, Otabek took off at a dead run, leaving people at the gym staring after him in shock.

 

Adrenaline flooded his system, pushing him beyond the already formidable capabilities of his body.  Buildings and people were blurs as he went by, his only focus on getting to Yuri.  He refused to let panic set in.  Panic was the reason people made mistakes.  No, he would remain deadly calm.  His mind turned to numbers. The number of blocks to the loft.  The number of sidewalk squares in a block.  The number of seconds it took him to cross a square.  When he totaled it up and didn’t like the number he got, he increased his pace and started counting again, ignoring the scream of his muscles as he forced them beyond their limits.

 

The flashing light on the receiver grew more rapid as he neared the loft, then slowed fractionally when he raced to the front door, telling him he was going the wrong way.  He pivoted on his heel, never losing his momentum, and went around the back.  There was a man standing at back door, his body turned so that it covered the keypad.  A hand that wasn’t his reached for the door handle.  Yuri.  Otabek had time to see that the door didn’t open, then all his focus was on the man who held Yuri’s arm twisted behind his back.

 

He slammed into the bastard, the full weight of his body and the force of his speed carrying them so hard against the door that the thick plate glass cracked.  Otabek had snatched the mans’ hand off of Yuri’s arm as he hit him, and crushed it in his grip until the man screamed in pain.  Otabek ignored him and turned back to Yuri.

 

“Yura?”

 

“I- I’m okay.”  He was rubbing his shoulder and glaring at the man now writhing in Otabek’s grasp.  “That’s  _ him _ .  He’s the one who was following me and sent the notes.”

 

“Did he hurt you?”  Otabek’s voice was dangerously quiet.

 

“No.  My shoulder’s a little sore, but nothing’s broken.  He was saving that for once he got me inside.”

 

The man screamed again as Otabek’s grip on him tightened.  “Go upstairs, and in the bottom drawer of my dresser is a black bag.  There are zip ties in it.  Bring me down two of them.  Do you think you can do that, sweetheart?”  Yuri nodded.

 

“Should we call the cops or something?”

 

“I’ll do it in just a minute.  I want to have a chat with him first.”  Otabek waited until Yuri had disappeared through the door before he dropped the man to the ground on his chest, his arm twisted painfully up behind him.  “I want you to listen to me, you miserable fuck, and listen well because you’re only going to get the opportunity to hear this once.  Stay the hell away from Yuri Plisetsky.  I hope that when the cops are done with you, you’re going to spend a nice long time in prison, but if you don’t, then you should know that what they’d do to you in there will look like a spa day compared to what  _ I _ will do to you if you ever set eyes on him again.  I don’t make idle threats, so believe me when I say, what was left of you wouldn’t be identifiable if they ever found your body.  Do you understand?”

 

The man only made a terrified sounding moan.  Otabek shoved his face down against the pavement with his free hand.  “Answer me!”

 

“Y-yes!  Yes!”

 

“Good.”  Otabek released his head and eased his grip just a fraction.  He didn’t want to break bones.  No, he knew the exact amount of pressure to use to inflict the maximum amount of pain with the minimum evidence left behind.  “I’m going to call the cops now, and if you’re very, very lucky, they’ll lock you away somewhere that I can’t get at you if I decide that you don’t deserve a second chance after all and come after you for all the suffering you caused Yuri.”

 

***

 

It was hours before Otabek and Yuri left the police station.  Giving their statements of what happened took hardly any time at all, but explaining the backstory was far more complicated.  Otabek knew several of the cops from other jobs he’d worked, and they were decent officers, but he didn’t think they would have taken Yuri seriously if he hadn’t been there to give his side of the story and provide evidence of Camden’s stalking.  It forced Otabek to see the magnitude of the stigma Yuri faced.

 

When he’d heard about Camden and his friend getting Yuri drunk so he wouldn’t fight them when they both had him at once, he’d wanted Yuri to press charges for that as well…  But he knew it would be pointless to even try.  As much as he hated it, a judge wouldn’t be able to look past Yuri’s profession.  Camden wouldn’t get much time for the stalking and assault, but Otabek was hoping that he had other warrants out that would keep him locked up for longer.  And if not, well, Otabek would happily make good on his promise.

 

Yuri kept up a brave face right up till they stepped through the door of the loft.  Then his mask of strength and indifference slipped.  Otabek just opened his arms and let Yuri fly into them.  His eyes were dry, but his shoulders shook.  Otabek picked him up and settled them on the couch, with Yuri in his lap.  He wanted to make tea, put on a movie they’d seen a dozen times before, get the worn quilt to wrap Yuri up in, but first, he just held him.

 

It was foolish, Yuri knew, to be feeling a rush of fear and anger and shame hours later, now that the incident was totally over.  But he couldn’t help the emotions churning in his gut, making him cling to Otabek like a vine.  He felt childish and weak and still couldn’t bring himself to push away.

 

He’d had sex with Camden before.  He’d let Camden tie him up, and force him down, and hurt him.  It had all happened already, several times.  So why had the idea of it happening again terrified him?  Just because it wouldn’t have been his choice?  Because he wouldn’t be getting paid for it?  Money shouldn’t have made the difference between something he did on a daily basis and the things nightmares are made from.  Yuri thought about the path his life had taken and wondered if Otabek wasn’t right.  Maybe it was time to do something different.  Maybe, with Otabek’s help, he could make a change.

 

The reality of his life hadn’t altered, though, even if his perception of it had.  He couldn’t snap his fingers and magically be qualified for a different career.  The money he had saved wouldn’t last forever if he didn’t have another way of making it.  There was always the risk that if he got out now, and he didn’t find anything else to fall back on, he’d be too old to be a respectably successful escort by the time he needed the money again.  What would he do then?

 

Otabek’s arms tightened around him and for one moment, Yuri let himself think that Beka would be there to catch him, if worst came to worst.  He imagined Otabek staying by his side, supporting him, cheering him on, helping him back up when he stumbled.

 

It was a ridiculous dream.  What they had now was good, but it couldn’t last.  At best, Yuri could hope for another few months, maybe a year, then Otabek would move on.  He would take a different job, see his friends, have a life, and he would realize that dating an escort, or even an ex-escort, was just a stone around his neck.  He wouldn’t be cruel about it, that much Yuri knew and could be grateful for.  He would be so kind and gentle that instead of crying, Yuri would be thanking him for staying as long as he had.  The tears wouldn't come until later, after he’d gone and Yuri was alone again.

 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”  The concern in Otabek’s voice tore at Yuri.

 

“Why do you call me that?” he demanded, masking the pain he felt with anger.  Otabek’s brow furrowed.

 

“Call you what?”

 

“ _ Sweetheart _ .”  Yuri spat the endearment as if it was a curse.  As if he didn’t melt a little inside every time Otabek called him that.

 

Otabek flushed a little and grimaced.  “Sorry, I don’t even realize I’m doing it.  I guess it’s just kind of… actually, now that I think about it, it’s something my dad used to do.”

 

“Your dad called you sweetheart?”  Yuri sounded incredulous.  The nicest thing Yuri’s father had ever called him was a fucking tax break.

 

“He called everything sweetheart.  Still does.  Me, my sister, the mechanic, the dog- once I even heard him call his car sweetheart.”

 

“I don’t want to burst your bubble if you’re hoping you’re any better, but you’ve called your motorcycle sweetheart twice when we’ve been riding it.”

 

“Fuck.”  Otabek rubbed the back of his neck.  “Really?”  When Yuri nodded, he cursed again.  “Well, I guess it’s just habit.  Does it bother you?”

 

Any anger that Yuri had built up to stave off his fears had already melted away.  “No, it doesn’t.  I- I like it.”

 

“Good, then.”  He waited a beat, then asked, “do you want to talk about it?”  Yuri didn’t need him to clarify to know what he meant.  He wasn’t sure he  _ did _ want to talk about it, but then his mouth was opening and words were spilling out whether he wanted them to or not.

 

“I just- I thought I’d be able to do something.  I know I’m no Rambo- that’s why I hired  _ you _ \- but I never thought I’d just go so completely  _ blank _ .  I should have yelled!  I should have kicked and bit and  _ fought _ .  Instead I let him muscle me out of broad daylight and to the building.  You’ve been teaching me all those fucking kickboxing moves, and I even thought about that but suddenly I couldn’t remember a single fucking one.  I just kept thinking about what he was going to do when he got me upstairs and if you’d get there in time to stop him or not.”

 

“That’s normal, Yura.  I’ve seen trained bodyguards freeze and forget everything if they panic.  It takes  _ years _ of work to overcome those flight instincts.  You did exactly what you were supposed to do.  You pushed your panic button and kept yourself alive until I got there.  That was the best thing you could have done.  I honestly don’t know what he would have done if you’d fought him in the street.  I don’t think he had thought this through at all.  I think he’d basically given up until he saw you on your own and then just grabbed you without a plan.  Even if I hadn’t been there, eventually you would have been able to outsmart him and get away.”

 

“But you were there.  You got him before he had a chance to hurt me.”

 

“That  _ is _ what you pay me for,” Otabek said with a smile.

 

“Technically, this is your day off.”

 

“Well, then we can just consider this a boyfriend service instead of a bodyguard service.”

 

Yuri drew back, a little smile curling his lips.  “Boyfriends?  Is that what we are?” 

 

“I guess that depends… do you want to be?”

 

“...yeah.  Yeah, I think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! A couple of quick notes here:
> 
> First, the amazing worldofcopperwings made fanart for chapter 13! I've added the link to the notes section for that chapter, so I highly encourage you all to check it out!
> 
> On a related subject, I've had other requests to do translations/stories inspired by my works/aesthetics etc, and let me just blanket say-GO FOR IT! I think inspiring other works of art (in whatever form they take) is one of the highest forms of flattery, and I would never discourage anyone from creating something! All I ask is that you send me a link so that I can fangirl with you!!
> 
> And finally, I want to give credit where it is due (aside from the obvious of the incredible YOI creators). The line, 'boyfriends? Is that what we are?' Is homage to the Captive Prince line, 'friends? Is that what we are?' Because, let's face it, don't we all see Otabek and Yuri as Laurent and Damen???


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance...

In the aftermath of Camden’s attack, their three month deadline had come and gone without notice.  Neither of them had mentioned it, but Otabek was starting to make plans anyway.  He would give up being a bodyguard, but not protecting people.  In the years he’d been in the business, he’d designed several unique panic buttons like the one he made for Yuri.  He could make those designs available for others, as well as designing new ones that were commissioned.  He would start taking the offers he got asking him to consult on security cases and vetting potential hires.  Maybe, with someone like him available to help, someone like Aaron wouldn’t get hired to protect a child.  He could make sure the bodyguards that were hired were competent and suited to the jobs.

 

It wasn’t something he’d ever seen himself doing, but now that he’d gotten the ball rolling, things were falling neatly into place.

 

When he’d left a brochure from the university on the counter open to the photography class page, Yuri hadn’t thrown it out, which was a start at least.  Another escort had noticed the new pictures on his site and asked if he would do theirs as well.  With a little bit of encouragement, Otabek thought he would take the job.  It wasn’t exactly high art, but it was honest work that Yuri was  _ good _ at.

 

Maybe things were taking a turn for the better.  Maybe with a little bit of luck and a lot of hard work, they could build a real life for themselves.  Together.

 

***

 

Yuri almost deleted the email.  He should have.  He wanted to.  But his curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the message.  The number of zeroes at the end of the payment made him consider an offer he should have turned down outright.  He thought about what Otabek was none-too-subtly trying to encourage him to do.  He thought about his fears for the future, about the three month deadline that they’d missed and were purposely ignoring.  If he was going to do it, now would be the only time. 

 

He thought about what he wouldn’t subject himself to in order to secure the fairytale future that suddenly seemed possible.

 

He clicked reply and started typing.

 

***

 

At first, Otabek thought it was something good.  Yuri had been acting… odd.  Beka hoped it was because he’d taken the photography job with the other escort, or that he’d gotten the papers to enroll in classes.  He even wondered, as the week progressed, if it wasn’t some milestone between the two of them.  Yuri had been deeply affectionate, keeping himself in touching distance of Otabek almost all the time and coaxing him into continuously stroking Yuri’s hair or holding his hand.  Otabek had become Yuri’s own personal cushion, sat on more frequently than any other surface in the house.  Those things would have more than welcome if the increasing desperation of them didn’t have Otabek now worried that something more ominous was going on.

 

Any time he tried to bring it up, Yuri brushed it off.  He said everything was fine, that things between them were great, that they were making the right decisions for their futures.  Somehow that was no comfort to Otabek.

 

It wasn’t until Yuri came out dressed for his Sunday client that Otabek realized what was going on.  The sight of the black collar and thick leather cuffs made him feel sick.  Yuri’s hair was slicked back in a bun at the base of his neck, and Otabek itched to rip out the tie holding it up.

 

“No.”  The word was out of his mouth before he’d even realized his lips were moving.

 

“Beka-”

 

“No.  No!”

 

“Beka, just let me explain-”

 

“No!  What are you doing?  Tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” he begged.

 

“It’s just one more time,” Yuri whispered.  “Just one more time and then-”

 

“ _ No! _  Do you not remember what happened last time?  A few more minutes and you might have  _ lost body parts _ !  Are you hoping this time he’ll succeed in tearing you apart from the inside out?  You  _ can’t _ -”

 

“It won’t be like that again!  He’s paying for the week I had to take off, and for me to take next week too, on top of double my usual fee for him.  Do you have any idea how much money that is?”

 

“Who the fuck  _ cares _ how much goddamn money it is?!  Tell me how much and I’ll write you a fucking check right now if that’s what it takes to make you come to your senses!”

 

“He’s already on his way-”

 

“Because you hid this from me!  You planned this behind my back, knowing how I would react!  You knew this was wrong and you did it anyways.”

 

“I didn’t want you to worry!  After this, I can start thinking about-”

 

“You should be thinking about  _ now _ , not after this!  What will be the point of ‘after this’ if he leaves you permanently damaged, or if he fucking kills you?”

 

“That won’t happen.  You’ll be here in case things get out of hand.”  Yuri stopped, his face pale and his chest rising in sharp pants.  “You’ll… you’ll be here, won’t you?”  Otabek stepped forward until he could grab Yuri’s chin.  The expression on his face was one Yuri had never seen before.  It was revulsion.

 

“The only thing worse than listening to that sick fuck have his way with you,” he hissed, “would be not being here to stop him when you need me.  Because you  _ will _ need me.  Bastards like him only get worse.”

 

“It’s just one more time,” Yuri whispered desperately, terrified of the coldness in Otabek’s eyes.  Otabek dropped his hand away as if he couldn’t bear to touch Yuri any longer.

 

“Just one more time this time.  And then just one more time next time when he pays double what he’s paying now.” Otabek shook his head.  “I can’t force you to listen to me, Yuri, but I damn well can’t be a part of this.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I’ll do my job.  I’ll protect you if you need it when you go out, and I’ll be your guard dog when clients come, but I can’t be any more invested in you than that.  I won’t put myself through that kind of pain.”

 

“Otabek-”  Yuri started to reach out, but Beka had already turned away.  There was a knock at the door.  “Beka,  _ please _ .”

 

Otabek paused, not daring to turn around again.  He couldn’t bear it.  “You don’t have to open the door,” he said softly, still holding onto a sliver of hope somewhere in his heart.

 

Yuri didn’t move.  The knock at the door came again.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  He went to open the door, and Otabek shut himself in his room.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys didn't think I'd keep you waiting for long, did you?
> 
> A warning about this chapter... Here be dragons.

Otabek sat stiffly in his chair, flinching each time there was a sound.  Each crack of flesh on flesh felt like it was hitting him directly.  Every low, strangled moan of pain was as loud as a scream in his ears.  He thought of how Yuri had looked after the last time Alex had been in there with him.  He thought of the future he’d been cautiously planning for, and how it was now burned to ash.  He thought of how much it was going to hurt, being around Yuri but not with him.  

 

The pain turned to bitterness and anger.  Why had he ever expected anything different?  Yuri was a whore.  This was the job he’d chosen, and he wouldn’t try any other.  Men like Alex were drawn to people like Yuri, the perfect mix of innocent and slut.  Someone who would let themselves be abused in any way for a price.  They felt that their lives were cheap, so they let themselves be treated cheaply.

 

_ Cheap. _

 

_ Lying. _

 

_ Whore. _

 

Otabek gasped aloud, horrified at himself.  They were ugly words, and even uglier thoughts attached to the man that he loved.  He wanted to beg Yuri’s forgiveness for even  _ thinking _ them in his anger.  But Yuri wasn’t there.  Yuri was down the hall, letting himself be abused for money.  There was nothing Otabek could do but sit, staring at the wall.

 

And he waited, tense as a bow string, for the call that he knew would be coming.  Any moment now, the light would flash.  Any moment-

 

The doorknob to Yuri’s room squeaked.  He’d half crushed it getting in the last time Alex had been there, and they hadn’t yet fixed it.  The latch caught as the knob turned.  It was a sound Otabek knew even in his sleep.  He was on his feet in a flash, yanking open the door to his room.

 

Alex stood in the hall, using what looked like the remnants of the shorts Yuri had been wearing to wipe blood from his hands.  He looked up when Otabek stepped forward.

 

“Oh, so there you are.  I thought you must’ve run off since you didn’t come bursting in on us this time.”

 

“ _ What did you do to him _ ?”

 

Alex laughed, tossing the bloody cloth onto the floor.  “I wouldn’t waste time chatting with me, if I was you.  It’s been,” he checked his watch casually, “forty-five seconds now.  Wouldn’t want to risk-”

 

Otabek didn’t hear the rest of what Alex said.  He tore past  him and into the room, his heart painfully caught in his throat.  At the sight of Yuri, the calm that usually overtook him in crisis situations deserted him utterly.  He rushed forward, desperately trying to get him down.

 

Yuri was unconscious, a belt around his neck attached to a chain from the ceiling.  His arms were bound together behind his back and his legs bent backwards, his ankles attached to his wrists with the cuffs.  Blood and semen were dripping slowly to the floor.

 

When his eyes were too blurred with tears to figure out how to unattach the belt from the chain, Otabek just ripped it from the ceiling in one mighty pull.  Plaster rained down on them as he put his trembling fingers to work undoing the buckle.  Thankfully, the collar beneath it had saved Yuri’s throat from being cut by the metal, but his neck was vivid purple with bruises already.  Otabek’s panic went through the roof when getting the pressure off of Yuri’s neck didn’t prompt him to inhale automatically.

 

He rolled Yuri to his side and broke the clips on the cuffs to get them apart so he could lay Yuri on his back.  He checked Yuri’s pulse.  It was slow and faint.  He tipped Yuri’s head back and waited half a beat to see if he would breathe.  He resolutely ignored the burst blood vessels around Yuri’s eyes, the blood on his lower lip where he’d bitten through it, the bruises on his stomach and ribs.  As he leaned down to start CPR, Yuri coughed, then gasped weakly.  He immediately choked on blood in his throat, and Otabek turned him on his side.  He coughed again and heaved, dragging in as much air as he could in between.  On a particularly strong retch he vomited.  Otabek supported his head and then shifted them away from the puddle.

 

“Yura?”  Otabek pulled Yuri half into his lap, cradling Yuri’s head gently.  “Yura, sweetheart, can you hear me?”

 

“Beka?”  Yuri’s voice was little more than a rasp, and he grimaced in pain.

 

“I’ve got you, love.  I’m here.”  Tears were falling from his cheeks and landing on Yuri’s.  He tried to wipe them away with trembling fingers.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no, sweetheart.  Don’t you apologize to me.  Not now.   _ I’m  _ sorry.  I should have come in.  I should have known-”

 

Yuri coughed again, and Otabek held him steady.  “Just keep breathing.  I’m going to call an ambulance.  Just hold on, sweetheart.”

 

“No!”  Yuri turned back so quickly that he nearly blacked out again.  “Don’t!”

 

“Yura, you  _ need _ to see a doctor.  You were unconscious, for god’s sake!  And this thing around your throat-”

 

“I can’t!  They’ll need to know what happened.”

 

“Then tell them!  Let them call the cops, and they can arrest that fucker while you’re getting help.”

 

“Tell them that I’m a prostitute that took a client knowing he was going to tie me up and fuck me, then I let him?”

 

“You can tell them that he nearly  _ killed _ you!”

 

“With my bodyguard just down the hall, ready to burst in if I give the sign.  They’ll think I’m either trying to scam him for money, or I’m suicidal.”

 

Otabek wanted to ask if Yuri  _ was _ suicidal.  Why hadn’t he pushed the panic button?  Why had he let things go so far?  “Then lie.  I don’t care what you say, as long as you see a doctor.”

 

“Call-”  Yuri stopped to cough again.  “Call Dr Boynton then.  He’ll come here for the right price.”  Otabek growled in frustration but pulled out Yuri’s phone to make the call.  He just wanted Yuri to see a doctor and make sure he was going to be okay.

 

While the doctor was very grudgingly on his way, Otabek carried Yuri to the living room and laid him on the couch.  He made warm tea and had Yuri sip it slowly.  He brushed aside the loose strands of hair that had fallen into Yuri’s face.  Emotion gripped him, threatened to overwhelm him, and he held it back.  There would be time to let himself go later, after Yuri was taken care of.  Everything else could wait. 

 

The doctor must have been paid  _ very _ well, because despite his reluctance, he arrived only a few minutes later.  He wore trousers, a pajama top, and a scowl so deep Otabek thought his face might just get stuck that way.  He was obviously familiar with the place - Otabek wondered how many house calls he’d made before Beka had started working for Yuri - and immediately set about checking over Yuri’s injuries.

 

No bones were broken, no major blood vessels damaged, and no permanent harm done.  Dr Boynton checked Yuri’s cognitive function and declared him fully functional when Yuri snapped and snarled back at him.  He was going to have a wicked headache in the morning, but if he had persistent headaches after that, or any vision changes, he needed to go to a hospital.  With that parting advice, the doctor left, telling Yuri he expected payment in the morning.

 

Finally, they were alone again.  Not looking at Otabek, Yuri tried to stand.  He stumbled back, and was trying to force his legs to move again when suddenly Otabek was at his side, steadying him and taking his weight.

 

“What are you trying to do, sweetheart?”

 

“I- I need to-”  Yuri’s face burned, but the feel of Alex’s come on his thighs burned hotter.  “I need to wash.  I can still feel…”  He shuddered, and even though he half expected Beka to push him away or let him go on his own, Otabek’s arm went around him more tightly, and he turned them both toward the bedroom.

 

As he helped Yuri forward, the door loomed up before him enormously.  Yuri found himself shaking for no good reason except that he didn’t want to see that room again.  Didn’t want to see his blood on the floor, see the belt that had nearly strangled him, see the cuffs that had kept him helpless to stop it.  As if he knew exactly what Yuri was thinking - and he’d been with enough people after trauma that maybe he did - Otabek picked Yuri up and turned Yuri’s face against his shoulder.  Yuri didn’t fight it.  He closed his eyes and tucked his face more tightly against Otabek’s shirt, blocking out everything but the feel of Beka, the warmth of him, the smell of him.

 

A moment later, Otabek eased him back onto his feet and turned the faucet on.  He helped Yuri under the spray, then waited to see if Yuri needed his help washing, too.  Yuri wanted to be strong.  He wanted to take care of himself.  But the thought of being alone, of facing what had happened by himself, was overwhelming.  Wordlessly, he handed the soap over to Otabek, who took it without complaint.

 

Once Yuri was rinsed off, Otabek put the stopper in the drain and let the bathtub fill.  Yuri settled back, letting the hot water ease his aches and sore muscles.  His eyes drifted shut for a moment, then snapped open again, looking for Otabek.

 

“I’m still here,” he assured softly.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Would you get in with me?” Yuri asked recklessly.  He didn’t know where they stood, didn’t know what the future would bring, but he didn’t want to think about that now.  “Not for-  I mean, I can’t-”

 

“Just to hold you,” Otabek clarified for him, and Yuri felt a surge of gratitude and love so fierce that it nearly overwhelmed him.  He nodded, then let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when Otabek began to strip down.

 

Yuri leaned forward slightly so that Otabek could slip in behind him.  Once he was settled, Yuri laid back against his chest.  Otabek’s thighs were cradling his, Otabek’s arms were around his waist.  If Yuri closed his eyes, he could pretend that the bath was just between two lovers who wanted to be close.  Not a whore and his bodyguard picking up the pieces after a client had nearly killed him.  

 

They stayed like that until the water began to cool and Yuri’s fingers were wrinkly.  Then Otabek helped him out, dried him off, and put his large undershirt over Yuri’s head.  It smelled like Otabek.  Yuri wanted to hope it meant something, but he knew it didn’t.  Otabek was just that kind of man.  He would give the shirt off his back to a stranger.  His client was no different.  There was a pause as Yuri looked at both doors in the bathroom.  One led to his old bedroom, with the single bed that he’d slept in before he and Otabek had become lovers.  The other led to the room, and past it, the hall.  Otabek’s room.  Where they’d been sleeping together, fucking and cuddling and being intimate in ways Yuri had never known.  But he wasn’t sure Otabek would welcome him back there again.

 

Otabek seemed to have the same debate, but it only lasted a moment.  Then, he wrapped his arm around Yuri’s shoulder and led him through the room and down the hall.  He tucked Yuri into his bed and laid down beside him.  In the dark, Beka picked up Yuri’s hand and squeezed it.  He laced their fingers together- then pushed the panic button on his ring.

 

The receiver around Otabek’s neck lit up and vibrated.

 

Otabek turned off the receiver and sighed. “You said that if you went to the hospital, they’d think you were suicidal.  Are you?”  His voice was gentle, without accusation or judgement.

 

“No!  No, I-”

 

“Yura, I told you I’d protect you.  That means even from yourself.  I’ll get whatever help you need.  There’s no shame in it.”

 

“I don’t- I don’t think… I didn’t want to die,” he whispered.

 

“Do you feel like you can tell me what happened?  You don’t have to talk about- not what led up to it, if you don’t want to, but what happened at the end.  Why you didn’t call for help.”

 

“I just kind of… shut down.  I knew it was going to hurt,  I didn’t want to  _ be there _ , be present, in my own head.  And as soon as he trussed me up I knew I’d made a mistake.  You have to believe me, Beka, I only intended it to be this once.  I thought I could start over with the money, that it would be enough for me to do the things you’ve been encouraging me to.  I  _ knew _ I shouldn’t have hidden it from you, but you were just as upset as I knew you would be, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I thought…”

 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart.  You don’t have to think about that now, alright?  We can figure the rest of that out later.”  Otabek rocked Yuri gently, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead.

 

“I thought you were going to leave me.  Not the job,  _ me _ .  And I understand, I do.  I don’t blame you.”  Yuri wiped away tears that had fallen down his cheeks.  “When he pulled me up by his belt, I just thought… I deserved it.  I was the one who’d let him in.  I knew what he would do, I knew I didn’t want it, but I’d still let it happen.  And I hurt you in the process.

 

The idea of you having to come in and get me from that again was just… I couldn’t.  I didn’t want you to see it.  It was stupid, so, so stupid, because he never intended to let me down.  You’d have seen me anyway, whether you came in right away or found my body later.” 

 

Otabek shuddered at the thought.  He’d come so close to losing Yuri forever.  Yuri pulled back enough so that he could look at Otabek’s face, needing to see his expression, needing to know that Beka would believe him.  “I’m done, Beka.  I’m done, I promise.  I know the damage is already there, that I hid things from you and I made you go through that, but if you’ll just-” he broke off in a sob and then forced himself to continue.  “If you’ll just give me another chance, I can do better.  I can be better, for you.  I love you.  I love you and I hate that this is how I’m saying it.  I don’t want you to think that I’m saying it to get you to stay, or that I’m imagining it because I’m desperate.  I  _ am  _ desperate, I’ll do whatever you want, but that’s not why I’m telling you.  I just want you to know, even if you leave, that I love you.”  He ended with his head bowed, his hands pressed together against Otabek’s chest as if in supplication.

 

When he dared to look up again, Otabek’s eyes were wet.  Yuri’s breath caught, and he braced himself for the worst.  

 

“There’s so much we need to work through, Yura.  More than we can resolve in a night.  But I’m not going anywhere.  Not until you order me away.”

 

“R-really?”

 

“Really.”  Otabek smiled down at him softly.  “I thought you must have realized it before even I did.  I couldn’t even try to hide it… You know, don’t you?”  Yuri shook his head, hope budding in his chest.  “I love you, too.” 

 

Yuri blinked, waited for the moment to undo itself, waited to wake up and for it to have been a dream, waited for Otabek to take it back.  None of that happened.  Beka was still staring down at him, cheeks wet and lips curled into a small smile.  Yuri leaned forward and kissed him, his mind going totally blank except for the need to be as close to Otabek as he could.  “I love you, I love you,” he mumbled against Otabek’s lips, laughing and crying at the same time.

 

“I love you too, Yura.  I’m here.”


	18. Chapter 18

Yuri meant it when he told Otabek he was done.  He’d been thinking about it ever since Otabek had brought it up, and tentatively planning for it since Alex had emailed him.  He’d considered, perhaps, he would still take a few more of his easiest clients until he could be sure he was making the right decision, but after what had happened, after seeing the look of hurt on Beka’s face that night, Yuri was ready to stop altogether.

 

He took down his web site the next day, and when he felt ready for it, he went back into the bedroom to box up all the whips and dresses and ropes.  Then a few hours later he’d gone back through and pulled a handful of things back out.  He wanted to try some of them with Otabek.

 

A week later, he took the photos for the other escort’s website, and used the money he made from that to finish paying off the photography classes.  He’d double, then triple checked that the professor, or any of the staff he would be working with, hadn’t been clients.

 

Otabek was with him every step of the way.  He supported Yuri, encouraged him when he doubted himself, comforted him when he was overwhelmed.  They celebrated together when Yuri got another photography job, taking boudoir photos for model.  They didn’t talk about Otabek’s job, about what he was going to do.  Until one day they did.

 

Otabek handed Yuri a check.  It was the exact amount of his salary, which had been deposited automatically into his account twice a month for the last four months.

 

“What’s this?” 

 

“You know what it is,” Otabek replied gently.  “This isn’t work any more, Yura.  You don’t need protection, and I’m not here because you’re paying me.  I’m here because I want to be.”

 

“But I’m not-”  Yuri stopped, trying to catch his breath and quell the panic that gripped his heart.  “I’m not ready for you to go.”

 

“I’m not leaving.  I told you I wouldn’t, not until you order me away.  This is just… redrawing our lines.  You’re not my employer, you’re the man I’m in love with.  And I’m going to stay by your side with no money exchanged, and no reason to other than that I love you and I want to be with you.” 

 

“But what about your work?  Will you be looking for other clients?  I don’t want to keep this apartment and I’d thought we could-”  he stopped, embarrassed.

 

“I’m not going to be taking more round the clock work like this.  It’ll be more design and consulting.  I was actually going to ask you if you’d be willing to help me with a web site.  And as for apartments…  I’ve got one across town that’s not being used.  It’s not as nice as this, but the building’s very secure and the rent is low.  It could be a place to start, while we’re both building businesses.  If you wanted to stay with me.”

 

“I do!  Of course I do.”  Yuri’s grin was wide and infectious.

 

“Don’t look so excited until you’ve seen it.  It’s nothing glamorous.  My TV is bigger than yours, but everything else isn’t anywhere near as fancy.”

 

“I don’t care.  I’d live in a shoebox if it was with you.”

 

Otabek chuckled.  “Well, it’s  _ slightly _ bigger than that.”

 

“It sounds perfect.”  Yuri kissed him.

 

***

 

It had taken far less time than Otabek had thought it would to move Yuri into his apartment.  Mostly because Yuri sold the majority of his furniture rather than bring it with him.  If Otabek had a functional version of it, then Yuri didn’t want his old ones as a reminder of where they’d come from and what they’d seen.  The couch they decided to keep, because Otabek liked the fact that it laid back, and despite the delicate looking little legs that supported it, it was rather sturdy.  A second dresser made the cut as well, since Otabek’s closet was ‘abysmally small,’ as Yuri put it.  The only other things that came along were Yuri’s camera equipment, toiletries, the old quilt, a few books, his significantly reduced wardrobe - once the fetish wear had been  _ mostly _ removed - and some nicknacks Yuri had collected over the years that had been hidden away in his little closet bedroom.

 

It took them three hours to pack up and take everything to the new apartment, and less than half that to unpack everything.  Otabek’s old couch had been literally falling apart, so they’d thrown it away and made room for Yuri’s.  Everything else was easy enough to fit around Otabek’s sparsely decorated rooms.

 

The small collection of sex toys Yuri had kept along with a value sized bottle of lube went into the nightstand, and the quilt was spread out on the bed.  Then Yuri collapsed dramatically onto it.

 

“Worn out, are you?” Otabek asked with a laugh, settling onto the bed beside him.

 

“Exhausted.  Dead on my feet.  I may never recover.”

 

“A little heavy lifting is good for you from time to time.”

 

“You only say that because you’re built like a brick shit house.  I’m small and fragile and weak.”

 

Otabek laughed again. “You weren’t saying that when you took me down with a roundhouse at the gym last week.  You can’t pretend with me, Yuri Plisetsky.  You might look delicate, but there’s steel under this satin skin.”  He ran his fingers up Yuri’s arms, feeling the sleek muscle there.

 

“Is that so?”  Yuri murmured, wetting his lips in anticipation and shifting closer.

 

“Mmhm.”  Otabek’s cock was already stirring.  Yuri knew exactly how to bring him to his knees.  He loved it.

 

“In that case, you’re not going to say no if I suggest some rough sex?”

 

“Relatively rough sex,” Otabek clarified.  Yuri shrugged.  Everything was relative, compared to what he’d been through before.  He pulled out a pair of cuffs from the nightstand and showed them to Beka.

 

“With these?”

 

“On me?  Go right ahead.”  Otabek offered his wrists up to be cuffed, knowing that wasn’t what Yuri meant at all.

 

“Next time.  For now, I want you to put them on me, Beka.”

 

“Yura-”

 

“I’m made of steel, remember?  I can handle it.  And I want… I want to have this, with you.  I love you, I trust you, I  _ like _ feeling vulnerable to you.”

 

Otabek looked at the cuffs, soft and innocuous and nothing at all like the ones he’d ripped apart that night.  He looked up at Yura, his eyes big and hopeful and honest.  He reminded himself that he really  _ wasn’t _ a prude.  He’d had sex with partners tied up, before.  In safe, sane, consensual relationships, it was  _ fun _ .  

 

He knew that for many people, going through what Yuri had would turn them off of things like that - if not  _ all _ sex - entirely.  But Yuri wasn’t most people.  He was as strong as Otabek said, and twice as stubborn as he had any right to be.  Otabek blocked out everything in the past.  He pushed away the memories of what he’d seen done to Yuri, ignored every thought of his own uncertainty and concern.  He only thought of Yuri as the man lying before him, intelligent and capable and so sexy Otabek had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t an illusion.

 

This was the man he loved.  This was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  This was the man he would go to his knees for, would pleasure in every way he could, trusted to know his limits and tell Otabek if he was ever taken to the edge of them.

 

He held out his hand for the cuffs.  Yuri grinned and handed them over.  Otabek cupped the back of Yuri’s neck and drew him close, his grip firm but not painful.  He kissed Yuri hard, then whispered, “I love you.”  His voice was already husky, and Yuri shivered in anticipation.  “Turn over,” Otabek ordered.

 

Yuri complied eagerly, shifting to his knees and offering his hands behind his back.  Already, he was desperate for the feel of Otabek thrusting inside of him, the pull of the cuffs, the sensation of being wholly at Otabek’s mercy and the paradoxical sense of power in knowing that Beka would never hurt him, would never push him too far.  He wanted to tell Otabek he loved him back, wanted to hold him tight and never let him go.  But there would be time for that after.  A lifetime of after.  For now, he closed his eyes and reveled in the surrender of his body to the only man who’d ever deserved it.

  
His bodyguard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left now!


	19. Chapter 19

Otabek waited until Yuri was asleep before he slipped out of the apartment.  He double checked that he wasn’t being followed, then drove his motorcycle to the address JJ had sent to him.  When he arrived, JJ, Victor, and Leo were standing outside.

 

“You sure you want to do this?” JJ asked.  “He’s definitely a bastard, I’ll give you that, but it’s not like you to be so… vindictive.”

 

“Vindictive would be tearing his spine out and presenting it to Yuri as a birthday present.  This isn’t vindictive.”

 

“That’s a colorful euphemism and all but-”

 

“You think it’s a euphemism?”  Otabek’s smile was so cold that JJ flinched.

 

“Jesus, this isn’t just about the kid, is it?  What the fuck did he  _ do _ to your boyfriend?”

 

Otabek didn’t reply.  Leo shifted, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going.  Victor, the least squeamish of the three, looked at his watch.  “You’ve got about ten minutes.  Be done before then or you’ll have lost your chance.  We’ll watch the door.”

 

In reply, Otabek just nodded and headed inside.  The office building was dark, mostly empty for the night.  One light was still on, in a corner office on the top floor.  Alex sat behind a massive desk, scowling at the numbers on his computer screen.  He didn’t look up until Otabek had already closed the office door behind him.

 

“Hello, Alex,” he said coldly.   Alex’s head whipped up, shock and fear registering on his face for a moment before he schooled his features into a sneer.

 

“Yuri’s little lap dog,” he acknowledged, leaning back casually in his chair.  “I can’t say I’m surprised to see you.  Not with how much you looked like a lovesick puppy over Yuri.  Have you come to lecture me about the wickedness of my ways?”  He rolled his eyes.  “Or maybe you’re going to tell me what a  _ bad man _ I am.  I hate to break it to you, Fido, but your little crush is a  _ whore _ .  He sold me the right to fuck him up.  And I’m sure when the price is right, he’ll let me do it again.”

 

Otabek didn’t say anything.  He didn’t move closer, didn’t even flinch at Alex’s ugly words.

 

“Cat got your tongue?” Alex taunted.  “Yuri must have hired you for your brawn and not your brain.  You’re obviously in over your head.  Take my advice and get out of Yuri’s life.  Fuck him one last time if you have to, then leave him in more experienced hands.  I know what boys like him need, and trust me, it’s not a shoulder to cry on.”  Otabek still didn’t move or speak, and Alex glowered.  “If you’re just going to stand there like an idiot, get the fuck out of my office.  I have better things to do with my time.”

 

Otabek still didn’t say anything, and Alex surged to his feet, fury in his eyes.  “I said, get the fuck out!”  He rounded the desk and shoved Otabek’s shoulder hard.  Otabek didn’t even sway from the force of it, but a frigid smile turned his lips.

 

“You’re never going to touch Yuri again,” he finally said.  Alex almost flinched, then sneered.

 

“Is that what he promised you?  He’s nothing but a money hungry slut.  I’ll offer him double next time, and he’ll spread his legs so fast-”

 

“There’s not going to  _ be _ a next time,” Otabek hissed.

 

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, then believe that all you want, Fido.”

 

“If I had to guess, I’d say the next time you see someone else’s cock, it’s going to be as it’s shoved down your throat.  There’s something poetic about that.”

 

“Is that a threat?”

 

“Not from me, no.  But I bet the new friends you make are going to turn you into their bitch so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

 

Alex’s fists clenched.  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“Is this making you angry, Alex?  Do you want to hit me?”

 

“So you can try to sue me for assault?  You really are a stupid fuck, aren’t you?  You’re in  _ my _ office.  I can claim self defense.  You attacked me first.  It’ll be your word against mine, and I guarantee you that no one’s going to believe a cheap nobody like you.”

 

“Go ahead, then,” Otabek urged, opening his arms in invitation.  Alex paused, then laughed.

 

“Oh, maybe you’re here because you  _ like _ this.  Does the whole tough guy persona get tiring?  Maybe deep down you’re just a pain slut looking for someone to take you in hand.  Is that it?  Are you  _ jealous _ of what I do to Yuri?”

 

“I think,” Otabek whispered, leaning down so he and Alex were nose to nose, “that you’re a small dicked piece of trash who’s never satisfied a partner in his life-”  Alex swung before Otabek had finished speaking.  Otabek easily shifted to the side, Alex’s fist glancing harmelssly off of his shoulder.  “And you’re a pathetic little excuse for a man,” he added, dodging another blow.  “Come on, Alex,  _ hit _ me.  Isn’t that what you do best?  Can’t you even manage a single decent punch?”

 

The taunting drove Alex into a rage, and he practically leapt at Otabek, swinging both fists.  Otabek easily dodged them all, then grabbed Alex’s wrist and twisted it up behind his back.  Alex gasped.  Otabek slammed him face first over the desk, wrenching his arm up higher until Alex whined in pain.  “You’re  _ never _ going to touch Yuri again.”

 

“Get the fuck off of me!” Alex gasped, fighting to maintain his bravado.

 

“You’re a sadist and a bastard, but deep down,” Otabek leaned over so he was whispering the words in Alex’s ear, twisting his arm further as he did, “deep down, you’re nothing but a coward.”

 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Alex screeched.  He writhed, and Otabek finally let him go.  His steps were unsteady as he whirled around.  He lunged, trying again to hit Otabek, but failing badly.

 

“You never should have touched Yuri,” Otabek growled, finally giving into the urge to fight back.  His hand landed, palm flat, against Alex’s ribs with a dull thud.  Alex screamed.  The force of the blow was just enough to fracture the bones, not break them.  Then his hands sought out pressure points, digging his thumbs into them until Alex was writhing in pain, shrieking and whimpering.  He wanted to slam his fist through Alex/s face, but he knew better than to leave marks.  And as satisfying as it would be to knock out the bastard’s teeth, this systematic, calculated punishment was far more painful.

 

After a particularly hard blow to the back, Alex coughed up blood, and Otabek knew he was at his limit.  He dropped Alex, who fell to the floor in a boneless heap.  Barely resisting the urge to kick the fucker as he left, Otabek made his way out the back of the office building.  Around front, lights flashed as police cars pulled up. 

 

“Good timing,” Victor said, nodding toward the door.  Otabek acknowledged it with a grunt, wiping his hands.

 

“He  _ is _ still alive in there, isn’t he?” Leo asked hesitantly.  When Otabek nodded once, he let out a relieved breath.  “Well that’s good, then.  With the evidence we turned over, he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.  I guess considering what they’re gonna do to him in there, killing him might have been kinder.”

 

“That’s why I didn’t kill him,” Otabek said with that same cold smile.

 

“Remind me never to cross you.”

 

“Noted.  And- thanks.  For helping dig up dirt on this bastard as well as evidence of what he did to that kid.”

 

“It was some pretty light lifting, all things considered.  Hell Beks, I don’t think there’s a single person in the business that doesn’t owe you a favor or two.  It’s about time you call in a few of them.”

 

“Besides, the fewer fuckers like this there are out on the streets, the better,” Victor added.

 

“I second that,” Leo agreed.

 

They watched from the shadows as Alex was led from the building in handcuffs.  When the police cars pulled away, Leo and JJ clapped Otabek on the back and walked away, leaving Victor and Otabek standing in silence.  After a moment, Victor broke it.

 

“We should get our Yuri’s together sometime,” he ventured mildly.  Otabek smiled a little, holding back a chuckle.

 

“I’m not sure mine would play nice, and yours seems to have a heart of glass.”

 

“He’s tougher than he looks, and he knows a thing or two about unhealthy defense mechanisms.  Give it some thought, and call me when you think he might be ready for it.”

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, when the time comes.”  Otabek held out his hand, and Victor shook it, then disappeared into the night.

 

***

 

Yur’s breath hitched, his eyes suddenly wide and staring at the TV screen he’d been ignoring a moment before.  He snatched the remote from Otabek’s hand and turned up the volume in time to hear the end of the news clip.

 

“-that CEO Alex Nicola has been arrested for the murder of a teenage prostitute last year.  Police say the case had gone cold, but that they received tips from an anonymous source that led them to the evidence that solved the case.  Nicola’s wife has declined to comment on her husband’s arrest, but she has been seen at Wode and Green, a prestigious divorce firm.  In other news, prices continue to climb on-”

 

Yuri muted the television and turned his wide eyes to Otabek.  “How…?”

 

“A man with tastes like that had to have a history of violence.  Looks like it finally caught up to him.”  Otabek tried to look casual, but Yuri saw through it immediately.  He knew that Alex’s actions going unpunished had grated on Otabek, but he’d convinced Beka that there wasn’t anything that could be done about it legally.

 

“ _ Anonymous _ sources help the police arrest him on a cold case?  Don’t try and make me think you had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Technically-”

 

“Beka!  I thought we talked about this.  I can’t press charges.  When this doesn’t stick, they’re going to have nothing to hold him for, because I can’t-”

 

“It’ll stick,” Otabek said softly.  Yuri stopped, startled.  “I’d do a lot of things to get back at that sick bastard, but I wouldn’t frame him for murder.”

 

“You mean-”  Yuri’s hand rose to stifle his gasp when Otabek nodded.  “He actually  _ killed _ that kid?  Oh my god…”

 

“Based on the timing, I’m guessing it was right before he started seeing you.  His escalation… it was probably a pattern.  It’s why he was so furious that you hired me when you did.”

 

“He  _ planned _ to-”

 

“I don’t think outright murder was ever his intention, but he knew what had happened before when he’d gone too far, and he obviously didn’t want his  _ fun _ interfered with.  He would have just kept going until he got there.”

 

“I can’t… I can’t even-”

 

Otabek took Yuri into his arms and rocked him gently, half expecting Yuri to shove him away and pretend to be unaffected.  “Try not to think about it, sweetheart.  It’s over.  All of it.  There’s enough evidence to lock up Alex for the rest of his life, even without you pressing charges for what he did to you.  He’s  _ never _ going to hurt you again.”

 

“Me?”  Yuri looked up, his eyes narrowed.  “I had  _ you _ , Beka.  But that kid… he didn’t have anyone.  And locking Alex up now won’t bring him back.  They didn’t even bother to say his name, did you notice that?  Like he wasn’t even a person.  Just the whore that got himself killed.  Christ, I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

 

More calmly than he felt on the inside, Otabek rubbed Yuri’s back.  “I’m sorry,” whispered, not sure what else to say.  What else could he say?  Yuri was right.  There hadn’t been anyone around to save Alex’s other victim, and justice wouldn’t bring him back.  

 

“Why are  _ you _ sorry?” Yuri demanded.  “You might be the next best thing to Superman, but even you can’t save everyone.  I just wish… fuck, I don’t know what I wish.  That I had a time machine, maybe.”

 

Otabek paused, weighing  his next words.  “I- I know where he’s buried, if you want to go sometime.”

 

“To do  _ what _ , exactly?  Talk to whatever shitty little grave marker the city put up?”

 

“To pay your respects.”

 

“It’s not like  _ he’s _ gonna give a damn.”

 

“Yura-”

 

“It’d be stupid.”

 

“Yura…”

 

“And it wouldn’t even-”

 

“Do you want to go, Yura?”  Otabek asked again, still keeping his voice soft.  Yuri stopped, looking almost sulky.  He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.” 

 

***

 

They were celebrating Otabek’s first big break in his new business when it happened.  He’d gotten a contract with the supplier he’d used for equipment when he was still a bodyguard.  Otabek’s designs were going to be produced and made available in the shop as well as through a web site, and it was going to pay very well.  Otabek hadn’t been overly worried about the financial aspect of his new career because the money he’d gotten from Jacob’s father was more than enough for a comfortable cushion, but it pleased him that the financial security would make him more than capable of taking care of Yuri, should his photography business struggle.

 

Yuri had planted himself in Otabek’s lap, glass of champagne in hand, and kissed him hard.  “If I’m not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar daddy,” he murmured, still smiling happily.  He was just so fucking  _ proud _ of Otabek-  And then Otabek had flinched, and Yuri realized what he’d said.  He felt his face heating up, and he tried to back peddle.  “I mean-  not that you…  Fuck, just forget that I said anything.”  He started to stand up, but Otabek stopped him with a hand on his waist.

 

“Yura, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Yuri snapped, face still flushed.

 

“It’s obviously not nothing.  Why are you so flustered?”

 

“Seriously, it’s nothing.  Just that stupid name.  I know how you feel about that.”

 

Otabek’s eyes widened for a moment, then lowered until they were half lidded.  “Calling me Daddy?”

 

“Yeah.”  Yuri squirmed, hating that the way Otabek said it made heat pool low in his belly.

 

“Why do you think you know how I feel about it?”

 

Yuri scoffed.  “You’re still a fucking prude, Beka!  Plus, don’t think I don’t remember how you felt about my clients with a daddy kink.  I think the way you phrased it was, ‘not much of a man.’”

 

Otabek looked at Yuri for long moments, eyes still smoldering.  His grip on Yuri changed, now that Yuri wasn’t trying to get off of him.  Became softer, more of a caress.  “I meant that because he was paying for sex with you and not caring about if you enjoyed it or not.  The fact that he had you wear a dress and call him Daddy wasn’t really the issue.”

 

“You still thought it was freaky.”

 

“I’ll admit that dressing you up as a girl threw me for a bit.  You’re a grown man, and I’m attracted to you as a man.  But it’s not like I’d object if tomorrow you decided that you wanted to start wearing skirts.  As for the other part…”  Otabek swallowed, looking almost uncomfortable.  “I think some of that might have been, well, jealousy.”

 

“Jealous?  Jealous of  _ what _ ?”  Yuri stared at him in shock.  “I didn’t have any kind of attachment to Taylor, except maybe to his wallet.”

 

“Look, I know it was ridiculous.  Trust me.  I had no right to be even remotely jealous, and I knew that it was just a job to you.  But I’ve told you before, I didn’t consider myself a jealous man up till I met you.  Something about you brought it out in me, I guess.  I didn’t like the entire situation, and I certainly didn’t like you calling him that.”

 

A slow, tentative smile began to form on Yuri’s lips.  “Because you wanted me to call  _ you _ that instead?”

 

“Not- exactly…”  Otabek’s cheeks began to get dusky and Yuri’s smile spread.

 

“Otabek Altin, is it possible that there’s actually a kinky bastard under all that prim exterior?”

 

“I’ve been trying to tell you that from the beginning,” Otabek growled.  “And I’m not saying that it’s something I know I like.  I’d have to see.  Plus, it wouldn’t work for me unless it worked for you.”

 

“But if it did…?” Yuri prompted.

 

Otabek lifted one shoulder in a shrug, swallowing hard.  “I like taking care of you.  Not because you can’t do it yourself, but just because I want to.  I like… providing for you, pampering you.  There’s something...satisfying… about being referred to in such a paternal way- god I really do sound like a kinky fuck.”  He put one hand over his face and sighed.  Yuri pulled it away, licking his lips seductively.

 

“I get it,” he whispered, leaning in close enough that Otabek could feel the semi he’d developed under his pants.  “If you’re my Daddy, then I can be your kitten, and you can have me any way you want me, and I can trust you to take care of me, to punish me when I’ve been bad, to show me that I’m all yours.  Not to mention that there’s something that always feels a little… taboo about it.  Which just adds to the appeal.”

 

“Y-yeah.  That.”  Otabek seemed to have lost his train of thought.  Yuri had begun rocking his hips slowly, giving subtle little rolls that left Otabek breathless with want. 

 

“Beka…”  Yuri rolled his hips again, pressing down on Otabek’s now throbbing erection.  “Do you wanna be my Daddy?”

 

“Sweet fucking Christ,  _ yes _ .”  He closed the distance between them and crashed his lips to Yuri’s, hard and hot and desperate.

 

“Take me to bed,” Yuri said when he broke away for air.  “Fuck me, Daddy.”

 

The words had the desired effect, as Otabek stood with Yuri in his arms and crossed to the bedroom.  He kicked the door closed with his heel and then caged Yuri on the bed.  “How do you want it, kitten?”

 

“You tell me,” Yuri replied seductively.  “Or maybe I should be bad so you can spank me before you fuck me.”

 

“Do you  _ want _ to be naughty?  Or do you want to be Daddy’s good little kitten?”

 

Yuri gasped softly, surprised in spite of himself at how much this was turning him on.  He considered what Otabek asked, then ran his nails across Otabek’s back hard enough to leave scratches.  Otabek growled, grabbing Yuri’s wrists and pinning them over his head sharply.  “Naughty it is, then.”  In swift, efficient moves, he disposed of both their clothes and then bent Yuri over his knee.  Yuri squirmed beautifully, putting up a show of resistance before letting himself be subdued.

 

Otabek’s hand cracked down on Yuri’s bare ass, hard enough to sting, but nowhere near the former bodyguard’s full strength.  This, they’d done before.  The idea of beating Yuri or actually injuring him in any way was totally abhorrent to Otabek, but they’d grown comfortable enough with each other to work up to things like sensual spanking.  Yuri liked feeling Otabek’s palm land heavily against his ass, liked putting himself at Otabek’s mercy and the feeling of security that came with knowing that Otabek would  _ never _ go too far.

 

When Yuri’s ass was a light shade of pink and warm to the touch, Otabek shifted him up so that Yuri was straddling his lap, his chest to Yuri’s back and Yuri’s legs spread over his thighs.  “Was that enough punishment, kitten?” he breathed in Yuri’s ear, biting softly on the lobe as his hand slid down to grip Yuri’s erection.  He hummed in satisfaction to find it hard.  “I think maybe you enjoyed your punishment too much.”

 

“Please,” Yuri whimpered, letting himself fall even more deeply under Otabek’s thrall.  He didn’t need to be strong, he didn’t need to be in control.  Here, in Otabek’s arms, he could be nothing but need and desire and  _ lust _ .

 

“Please what, sweetheart?”

 

“Please, Daddy… please fuck me.”  His head lolled back against Otabek’s shoulder as he tried to rut into Otabek’s hand.

 

“Such a needy little cumslut,” Otabek whispered.  Yuri moaned loudly, feeling a bead of precum slide down his cock and disappear beneath Otabek’s fist.  He loved this.  Loved that he could give himself over to the abandon of his desires, loved that he could drive Otabek this far.  “Don’t worry baby.  You’ll get Daddy’s cock.  I know just what you need.”

 

He shifted so that Yuri was on his hands and knees on the bed, then reached into the nightstand for lube and a plug.  Yuri shivered as he heard the click of the bottle cap opening.  He didn’t prepare himself any more unless he was trying to surprise Otabek, or if he was absolutely  _ desperate _ for his cock, and never because he worried Otabek wouldn’t do it.  Otabek  _ always _ took the time to stretch him, either with his fingers or one of the plugs, making sure he was slick and ready to take the considerable girth of Otabek’s cock without pain.

 

Yuri stopped Otabek before he got lube on the medium sized purple plug and handed him the smaller blue one, instead.  He wanted it to burn, tonight.  Wanted to feel the stretch of Otabek’s cock filling him, only just the right side of painful.  He wanted to be  _ sore _ tomorrow.

 

Otabek didn’t argue.  Instead, he slicked up the toy and eased it into Yuri, stroking his cock as the length of silicon disappeared inside him.  Yuri groaned, rocking backwards towards the increasing pressure.  He felt wanton, debauched, utterly and totally secure.  He felt  _ cherished _ .  “Please, Daddy,” he begged shamelessly.  “I need it  _ now _ .”

 

“Just a little longer, sweetheart,” Otabek said gently but firmly.  He refused to rush and risk hurting Yuri, no matter how desperate they both were.  He kissed the base of Yuri’s spine and sped up the movement of both hands.  When Yuri’s legs were shaking and his cock was jumping erratically, Otabek finally withdrew the plug and rubbed the head of his cock against the slick, waiting opening.

 

“Please,” Yuri practically sobbed, mindless with the need to be fucked.  He felt like he’d go mad if he had to wait even one more-  His breath hissed in as Otabek began pushing forward.  The pressure was almost uncomfortably intense at first, but then the head slipped inside and all Yuri could feel was the burn of being stretched around Otabek’s cock, the fullness of having Otabek inside him, filling him to the brim.

 

“You look so beautiful stretched around my cock,” Otabek whispered reverently.  Yuri’s only reply was a high keening noise as he rocked backwards to take more of Otabek’s length inside.  “Impatient little kitten.”  Otabek gripped Yuri’s hips and started thrusting forward in a bruising rhythm.  Yuri hissed in pleasure, back arching down to try and spread himself even wider, to take even more of Otabek’s cock.  “Does Daddy’s cock feel good, baby?”

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Yuri gritted the word out through his teeth, clenching them against the onslaught of pleasure from Otabek’s thrusting.  The hand on his cock sped up, the grip tightening even further until Yuri thought he was going to fly apart.  He felt the sharp pleasure building up in his belly, steadily robbing him of all thought except the need for release.  One particularly brutal thrust pushed the pleasure right to the fore, unable to be stalled or ignored.  “Daddy!  I’m gonna- I need to come!  Please, Daddy!”

 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Otabek commanded.  He stroked Yuri’s cock through the orgasm and didn’t even have a moment to catch his breath before his own orgasm slammed into him.  He pounded Yuri hard and fast, pumping him full of come and sating some primal need in Otabek to mark Yuri as his forever.

 

When the last aftershocks of pleasure had shuddered through both of them, Otabek pulled slowly out and collapsed onto the bed beside Yuri.  “Holy fuck,” he muttered.

 

“My thoughts exactly,” Yuri said tiredly.  He groaned as he shifted his hips, another little surge of pleasure hitting him softly.

 

“That was… that was…”

 

“Amazing?  Incredible?  Wonderful?  So goddamn hot that I thought my balls were gonna fall off?”

 

“I was gonna go with ‘great,’ but your adjectives work too.”  He chuckled.  “I think it’s safe to say the daddy kink is good to go on my end.”

 

“Mm, mine too.  And you calling me  _ kitten _ .”

 

“Did you like that, too?”

 

“You could say that.  God, that whole thing was so fucking good from start to finish.  And just think, all it took was admitting you had a daddy kink.  Imagine what might happen if you suddenly develop a pet play fetish.  Then I really  _ would _ be your kitten.”

 

Otabek looked at Yuri consideringly for a moment, thinking of all the sexual things he and Yuri had done.  There hadn’t been a single one that he hadn’t loved.  There was no part of Yuri that he didn’t desire.  Even things he hadn’t ever really given much thought to trying were arousing and fun to do with Yuri.  He leaned up on his elbow and cocked a brow.

 

“Still have that tail plug?”

 

***

 

Settling into the new house had taken far longer than their previous move.  For one thing, they had  _ both _ of their stuff to pack up, and for another, they had finally both started  _ living _ .  For years, Yuri had kept himself so closed off that he barely let anything personal into his loft.  And Otabek wasn’t much better - taking his sense of home with him wherever he went because he never stayed in one place for long.  Once they’d begun living in the apartment together, though, things changed.  It became home to them both, filled with memories of things they’d done, souvenirs of trips they’d taken, little objects of comfort they enjoyed.

 

Now, all those pieces of home had been moved into the house they’d bought together.  Yuri had flown through his photography classes, then taken web design classes, and finally business classes so that be could help Otabek more with the consulting firm.  When he wasn’t doing photography gigs, he was doing Otabek’s books and helping him juggle clients.  Neither of them had expected the consulting work to grow into something so huge, but one thing had led to another, and suddenly Otabek wasn’t just doing part time work vetting hires and designing.  He was managing entire teams, setting up security for professional shows, and generally keeping people safe all around.

 

Yuri was so goddamn proud of him that sometimes he thought he might burst with it.  Not to mention, he’d grown used to the idea that he was proud of  _ himself _ , too.  He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t a layabout, he wasn’t worthless.  He worked three successful careers and managed to maintain a rock steady relationship with the man of his dreams on top of it all.  Never in a million years would Yuri have thought his life could turn out like this, and yet here it was, his future unfolding more brightly each day.

 

“I half expected you to be asleep already,” Otabek commented, seeing Yuri stretched out on the bed they’d just set up.  Yuri rolled over and flipped him the bird.

 

“We can’t all be the energizer bunny like you, but that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to collapse at the drop of a hat.”

 

Otabek laughed.  “Tell that to Yuuri.  I think he expected you to drop that bookshelf on him.”

 

“Well if  _ he _ wasn’t such a pudgy piggy, he probably would have been able to hold up his end better!”

 

“He’s got even more stamina than I do, and we both know it.”  Otabek laughed again when Yuri rolled his eyes.  “And don’t forget we’re going to dinner with him and Victor this weekend.”

 

“What?  Whyyyyy?”

 

“Because they’re our friends and they wanted to celebrate our big move.”

 

“ _ Your  _ friends,” Yuri grumbled.

 

“ _ Our _ friends.  And just think, it could be worse.  Gregory could be coming with his latest girlfriend.”  Yuri cringed.  “Or I could have invited JJ and Isab-”

 

“No, stop right there, I take your point.  Dinner with the old man and the piggy this weekend.”

 

“I thought you might see it that way.”  Otabek stretched out on the bed beside Yuri and kissed him softly.  Yuri let out a little hum of pleasure and pressed closer.  “Not too tired from the move for some… extracurricular activities?” Otabek ventured.

 

“Definitely not. I think we need to break in the new bedroom.  Take it for a test drive.  Give it a maiden voyage.”

 

“How about something new tonight, then?”

 

“New?”  Yuri cocked his head, curious.  “What did you have in mind?” 

 

“Maybe a new role playing scene.”  Otabek fidgeted with his pocket, making Yuri perk up even more.  Was Beka  _ nervous _ ?

 

He smiled mischievously, already considering the possibilities.  “Ooh, student and teacher? No, I guess we’ve already done that one.  Guard and prisoner?  Fireman who just saved me?  Cop who just pulled me over for my abysmal driving?”

 

“No, but remind me to have us roleplay more.  You seem to have given this a lot of thought.”

 

“What can I say, variety is the spice of life.”  Yuri smirked, then the expression faltered as he saw how serious Otabek looked.

 

“How about we spend the night as two men desperately in love who’ve just agreed to spend the rest of their lives together?”  He pulled something from his pocket and Yuri’s breath caught.  “And, if you like it, maybe we could do it again tomorrow night, and the one after that.  And then, when the time is right, we could be blushing newlyweds.”  He offered the ring to Yuri almost hesitantly.

 

Yuri realized belatedly that he’d stopped breathing.  He couldn’t remember how to start again.  All he could focus on was the band of braided gold Otabek was holding out to him.  It looked like a thicker, slightly more elaborate version of the panic button ring Otabek had given him more than a year ago.

 

Otabek wanted to… marry him?

 

It seemed so unreal.  Yes, they’d committed to each other.  Yes, he knew Otabek loved him, just like he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved Beka and wanted to spend his life with him.  But marriage seemed like something other people did.  People who met at coffee shops and had boring childhoods and wanted a picket fence and two point five kids.  Marriage was a happily ever after.  It would mean he got to show the world that Otabek was his and he was Otabek’s.  That they’d chosen each other over anyone else in the whole world, and for the rest of their lives.

 

Old insecurities tried to pop up, but the look of hope on Otabek’s face as he waited with bated breath squashed them.  Yuri tried to think of something witty to say.  Something sarcastic and smart that would make Otabek laugh.  Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind.

 

“I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

 

Otabek smiled tentatively.  “I’ll take that as a good sign, but it’s not really an answer.”  Yuri sniffed, realizing that his eyes were wet.  He wiped at them furiously and shoved Otabek’s shoulder.

 

“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot.  Of course I want to-  Christ you’ve turned me into such a sap.  Goddamn you for making me so happy.”

 

“That’s something I’ll be glad to take credit for, sweetheart.”  Otabek slid the ring on Yuri’s finger, then kissed it.  “I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

 

Yuri sniffled again, laughing.  “Then start by taking off your pants.  I was promised some hot newly engaged sex, and you’re just the man to give it to me.”

 

“I’m the  _ only _ man to give it to you,” Otabek growled, rolling Yuri to his back and pinning him to the bed.

 

“And you always will be.  Now shut up and kiss me.”

  
Otabek gladly obliged, pressing his lips to Yuri’s and then deepening the kiss, pouring every ounce of love he felt into the caress.  He thanked his lucky stars for every little thing that had led him to this moment, that had led him to his own happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I can't believe this is done! Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming on this ride with me. All the kudos and comments have meant the world to me, and I'm so happy to have created something so many people enjoyed.
> 
> I want to take a moment to give credit to the various works that inspired me while writing this. Yuri on Ice, of course first and foremost. Captive Prince, which I've mentioned before I see the main characters as Yuri and Beka. Also the manga Twittering Birds Never Fly - which features a super strong, stoic ex cop and the blonde beauty with a tragic past that he falls for... Hmm, maybe I have a weakness for these pairings. Last but not least the original Bodyguard, a Kevin Costner movie that I've always loved.
> 
> It means a lot to me that I can pay homage to these amazing works that I love by writing, and sharing this with you all has been incredible. Thanks again for sticking with me, and here's to hoping our favorite couple becomes canon next level!


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